


Broken

by ZinniaRoseStark



Series: Olivia [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gun Violence, Humiliation, Hydra (Marvel), Kidnapping, Memory Loss, On the Run, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, Protective Bucky Barnes, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Torture, Violence, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:10:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 63
Words: 95,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6834790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZinniaRoseStark/pseuds/ZinniaRoseStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olivia Pierce decided to run. She was tired of her father, and the work he brought home with him. But what she didn't count on was her father being part of a secret terrorist organization from the 1940's, or that he had access to possibly the most dangerous man on earth. Olivia soon figures out she's being hunted by a ghost incapable of feeling, or is he? She tries to crack the rough exterior of the Winter Soldier, but what she didn't count on was that their futures were more entwined than she thought.</p><p>Not for the faint of heart. This is basically the messed up crap that my brain could come up with all crammed into one. It's going to be graphic, and if that's not your thing, then move along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a teaser, I don't know really how soon I'll update this one again, I guess just as soon as I get inspiration.
> 
> And yes, this is a very graphic story. And if anyone would want to avoid it, the chapters that contain rape are: 10, 11, 12, 13, 15 mentions it briefly, attempted in 28, attempted in 44, 47, and discussed in 48.

Olivia Pierce had spent most of her life under her father’s control. Her mother had died not long after she was born, leaving her in the care of her father, and older sister. Her older sister left as soon as she graduated, though, leaving Olivia to fend for herself. Her father loved order. Control. He wanted Olivia to be the perfect daughter, perfect soldier. But Olivia wasn’t having that. She was a free spirit, like her father said. Her mother had been the same way, always looking outside the box, instead of staying inside where her father wanted. 

Olivia knew her father had a very important position within the government, but he hadn’t ever told her exactly what it was. She supposed he was sworn to secrecy to a point. He kept his home office under lock and key, and she guessed alarm system. He never spoke of work, but he did bring it home with him. Always in the form of the STRIKE team. She knew them well. She always made it a goal to be out of the house when they came over. She hated the way they watched her, like she was a piece of meat and they were hungry dogs. And, of course, her father was blind to it. Or at least he acted that way. 

She knew her father had people following her, watching her every move. But she had really cracked when she found the chip in her phone. Something fishy was going on, well beyond her father just wanting to keep an eye on her to make sure she was safe. So she broke into her father’s office when he was gone one day. She was wrong about the alarm system, but most of the desk drawers were locked. But she’d practiced picking locks just for this moment, but she wished she had never looked. Stayed naive to everything. Then maybe her life would have turned out differently. 

She pulled up a file on the computer, reading through the plans, something about SHIELD, helicarriers, Project Insight, and HYDRA. She sat back in the leather chair. She knew about HYDRA, the Nazi science division, but she thought it had disbanded after WWII ended. But now apparently her father was working for them. 

She left the office in a hurry, packing a backpack before slipping out of the house, driving her car to the nearest train station, using the money she’d saved up to get a ticket as far away from D.C. as she could go. She ditched everything her father could possibly track her with, wanting to ensure her safety. 

Alexander Pierce got home late that night after dealing with the recently reawoken asset. He was surprised to see his computer on when he entered his office, a file open on screen. The file for Project Insight. He pulled up the surveillance video, watching his daughter enter his office and pull up the file. She left in a rush, leaving the house in her car. He pulled up its location, the D.C. Union Station. He called in STRIKE, sending them to the station to find his daughter. 

He was angry when they returned empty handed. 

“She was already gone, but the clerk said she bought a ticket to Cleveland. She could be halfway across the country by now.” Rumlow said. 

Pierce was standing with his back turned, staring down at his desk. She now was aware of critical information, and on the run. She could bring down the entire operation before it even started. She could reveal their existence, play hero, try to have them shut down before they succeeded in their plans. He needed her back in their hands now, and he didn’t care what shape she came back in. 

“Send the Asset.”

“Sir-” 

“She knows. We need her contained now.” 

"Why not just send STRIKE after her?" Rumlow asked. “We’re very capable-”

"I know how capable your team is. But my daughter's always been a free spirit. Much like her mother.” Pierce said, staring down at a picture on his desk. “It's time she was restrained. Taught a lesson that I failed to teach her." 

"He'll break her." 

Pierce turned, staring at Rumlow, a small smirk on his face. "Indeed he will." 

 


	2. Freedom Doesn't Last Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kinda jumping in here. It might be moving a little fast, but I wanna get to the good stuff!

Pierce sat in front of the Asset. His stare was blank, waiting for instructions like he’d done so many times before. He didn’t feel anything anymore. He was beyond that. Wiped too many times, had his identity taken away. He didn’t even know he was human anymore, so used to being controlled, shaped, manipulated. He was a perfect soldier, completing his missions without asking questions. Just what they wanted. And just what Pierce needed. 

“One target, level two. She escaped yesterday with some valuable confidential information.” Pierce held up a picture of his daughter. “I want her back alive by whatever means necessary. She needs to be taught a lesson, and you are the perfect teacher. Be ready to leave within the hour.” 

“Are you sure about this?” Rumlow asked as he left the vault with Pierce. “He’s gonna rough her up pretty good.”

“Order comes through pain. She needs to suffer in order to see the mistakes she’s made. I want you to set the extraction site outside the city. I want STRIKE ready and waiting when he returns. You are to bring both back here to await further instruction from me. She’s no match for him, and unless she is bleeding out, you are to follow my instructions to a T. Do I make myself clear.” 

“Yes, sir.” Brock said, smirking to himself. The little brat didn’t know what she was in for. 

*************

It had been three days. I had ditched the train, taking two busses and hitchhiking a little to get to Tulsa. I was surprised they hadn’t sent out a search party, that my face wasn’t plastered everywhere with big red letters spelling MISSING under it. I would have thought they would be a little more desperate to find me. Granted, they could be on my trail, one step behind me and I would never know it until they found me. I didn’t know why they would search for me. It’s not like I actually read anything. I just got a quick glance. 

I tried not to think about what HYDRA would be like now. They were some sick people though, considering they were originally Nazis. But the idea that my dad was a part of it made me a little sick. Sure, he had some pretty twisted logic, but to go that far...I had so many questions that I necessarily didn’t want to find answers to. 

I spent the night in a homeless shelter, not sure where I was going to go. If they were following me, they were most likely going to search big cities. Big cities meant lots of cameras, and easier access. It would be easier to hide, but it was riskier than finding a place to lay low in a smaller town. I could catch a train to California, then head North from there. Maybe sneak through Canada and head even further. Someplace they’d never think to look. If they were even looking for me. I mean, I did happen to see something that was confidential and possibly dangerous, so I don’t know why they wouldn’t be looking...but it wasn’t like I was going to tell anyone. I had no one to tell. No reason to tell. I just wanted to get out of a crazy man’s house, and that had just been my excuse. 

I had a plan to bus from Tulsa to Oklahoma City, then train to Fort Worth, then start heading West. But, the next bus didn’t leave until tomorrow, so I was stuck in Tulsa once again. I was quickly running out of money, and knew I’d need to find a way to stock up fast. I couldn’t use my card because they’d be able to trace that. I could resort to begging, though I didn’t exactly look the part. 

I made the mistake of staying out later that night. I should have found some place to lay low, like the bus station, but I decided to move around. Get a feel of the city, get some food for the trip. I should have known they would have moved at night. Not risked being seen during the day, where I could cause a scene and compromise their “rescue.” 

I was passing by an alleyway when I was grabbed. The force that grabbed me was so strong, my shoulder popped painfully, and I knew it had to be dislocated. I was thrown back against the side of a building, my head hitting the concrete hard, my body falling as my world went blurry. A boot pressed against my chest, rolling me on my back. I blinked, trying to clear my blurry vision as the figure above me swam. I was probably concussed. 

I couldn’t see who it was, their face covered, actually most of their body was. They leaned down closer to me, pressing harder against my chest, and I was scared the heavy boot was going to break something important. 

“Please.” I gasped, grabbing at air, trying to grip onto consciousness. 

My attacker didn’t say anything, just raised his fist, bringing it down on my face, and that was it. My world went black. 

My head was pounding when I woke back up. I felt like I’d been hit by a Mack truck. I was leaning against a wall, my shoulder bent at an awkward angle, and I could feel it swelling by the minute. My face felt swollen as well, my nose aching, my right eye pulsing, my lip was bruised, cut, and it was either blood or drool dripping down my chin. I wasn’t sure. I tried moving, but immediately regretted that decision. Aching pain rippled through my body and I groaned, stilling immediately. 

I was toast. There was no way I was getting away in this state. Not like I could get away. Whoever it was that caught me meant business. Probably hired by my dad...or HYDRA...to find me and bring me back so they could kill me. I didn’t know why he didn’t just do it. It would be a relief for me. 

I was so lost in thought, I didn’t hear him approach me, until his glove-clad hands were on my shoulder, jerking it back. I screamed as my shoulder popped back in place, the sound echoing around me. The man, who I could see now, didn’t even bother covering up the sound. Tears, big, hot tears fell down my face as I held my arm, trying to avoid aggravating my already splitting headache. 

We were in some kind of abandoned warehouse, with high windows, and only one door out, which my captor promptly sat himself in front of. He had various weapons strapped to his body, and probably more under the jacket he wore. His mouth was covered by a mask, and he had a pair of goggles covering his eyes. His dark hair hung down to his shoulders, unkempt and flat, like it hadn’t been cut in a long time. It probably hadn’t, actually. His goggled eyes were on me, well, I thought they were, his left hand resting on the gun strapped to his thigh. Daring me to move and try to escape. 

I wasn’t that dumb. I was injured, dizzy and couldn’t even stand. I wasn’t about to go running off, well try to anyways, and attempt escape. That would be a death wish for sure. Or at least give me more injuries. 

I was starting to get a little nauseous, probably from my concussion, and the hunger eating away at me. I hadn’t eaten since lunch the day he took me. Which god knows how long ago that was. I could have been out for a long time. I grew more and more queasy, and I tried to focus on one spot, one place on the wall, but the world was spinning. 

I turned my head, vomiting what little was left in my stomach onto the floor. The man by the door didn’t flinch. Nor did he move. He was making his message very clear, asserting his dominance in the situation. He was in control, and I was not going anywhere. 

 


	3. Dazed and Confused

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been in the warehouse. I was floating in and out of consciousness, dehydrated, starving and concussed. I was reduced to dry-heaves now, having nothing but bile in my stomach. I was starting to think I’d run out of that too. My lips were split in several places, my chin wet with blood. My shoulder was aching, and had turned an ugly bluish/purple color. My head was still throbbing, and I was sure I was bruised elsewhere. My right eye was almost swollen shut, my cheek throbbing and tender now. 

My captor was gone, not in his usual spot in front of the door. If I had been in better shape, I would have run. But I could barely move without dry-heaving. Whoever this guy was...he was smart. I sat there, my vision coming in and out as I stared at the wall. The door opened, the creaking making my head throb as it echoed around the room. 

His footsteps were near silent as he approached me, a bag in hand. I turned slowly, looking up at him, waiting as he squatted down, pulling a bottle of water and a package of crackers from the plastic bag. He didn’t move after he sat them down, watching me like a hawk. I wondered how and where he had gotten them, then decided not to question anything. I reached down with my good arm, taking the water bottle. My tongue was nearly sticking to the roof of my mouth and I greedily drank until he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Right. If I drank too much too quickly I’d throw it back up. So I put the bottle down, opening the package of crackers, nibbling on one. He seemed satisfied, and moved back to his spot. 

“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. 

I got no answer, no flinch, nothing. He just sat, rigid, staring at me through his goggles. I was sure I looked pathetic, beat up, weak. If my father could see me now. I could hear him yelling at me for being such a wuss. Telling me to suck it up and get off my ass. But what was the point? I was probably going to die anyways. 

“You work for HYDRA, don’t you?” I said, trying to make conversation, even if it was just one sided in an attempt to stay awake. Stay conscious. He shifted then, just a hair, but I didn’t miss it. “They sent you after me, right? I found some confidential information and now they have to kill me.” He didn’t move. “Why don’t you just do it? Kill me? Or does my dad want to witness it? I know he works for HYDRA now. Sick bastard. I always knew he was a horrible person. I just didn’t expect it to be this bad.” I scoffed. “Maybe it would be better if I died.” 

“No.” 

It took me by surprise. I had to process it for a moment, not realizing it was him that said it. His voice was rough, slightly accented, even though he’d said only one word. It was muffled by the mask, but it was definitely him who said it. Well, it was a start. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

“No.” 

Maybe that was the only word he knew. “How long are we going to be here?” 

Nothing. No sign that he had at least heard me. I huffed, whimpering lightly as I shifted into the corner, curling in on myself as much as I could. My stomach hurt after having food after god knows how long. Maybe it was all a test, see how long until I broke, then he’d take me back to my dad. Maybe this was just some horrible type of punishment, and my dad was going to come walking through the door any day now and yell at me, and have me locked up and hidden away forever. But I doubted it would be that easy. I drifted off, not quite sure if this was real, or just some messed up dream. 

I woke up alone. He was gone, and I had to pee, but I wasn’t sure I could move. I wasn’t about to wet my pants, but it seemed like my only option at the moment. I gripped the wall to my left, placing my other hand down next to my pile of dried vomit from the last couple days, or hours, I wasn’t quite sure what time it was. Maybe it had only been a day, or a week. I didn’t know. 

I pulled myself up into a sitting position, my head spinning, stomach churning at the action. Okay. Way too fast. I breathed, closing my eyes, listening to everything around me. 

It was deathly silent, not even the sound of nature, or a road, or anything around us. Maybe I was trapped in some nightmare, unable to get out. Or maybe this was what death was like. I was stuck somewhere, and there wouldn’t be anything on the other side of the door if I ever got there. Maybe that’s why time didn’t seem to make sense to me. Either that, or I was slightly crazy from a head wound. Yeah, probably the latter. 

There was the sound of boots on gravel and the door squeaked open, the sound making me wince. The man was back, and he walked towards me with purpose, an almost strut to his walk on his left side, like something was weighing him down on that side. I didn’t have much time to study him because he was beside me, his hands moving under my arms, lifting me to my feet. I fell back against the wall, blinking the dizziness back as I tried not to hurl all down his front. My legs were weak, shaking as they tried to hold me up. He studied me for a second, as if assessing my ability to move before he hoisted me over his shoulder, and this time I was sure I was going to hurl. Or wet my pants. 

“Wait. I have to pee.” I said as he moved towards the door. 

He didn’t seem to hear me, or just ignored me as he walked outside, the sun blinding me for a moment. I couldn’t see where we were going, but I was right about the abandoned warehouse. I heard a car door open and I was lowered from his shoulder. 

“Please. I really have to go. I can’t hold it, and I don’t think you want to smell that all the way to wherever we’re going.” I tried to plead with him. He was still for a moment as he regarded me. “I’m obviously not running anywhere on my own.” I looked around. “There. Let me go behind that bush. You can stand on the other side, make sure I don’t run. Please.” I was sure if I could, I’d be doing the potty dance. 

He sighed, dragging me to the bush, plopping me down on the back side of it, taking a few steps away from me before stilling, crossing his arms. 

“I’m not going with you standing there.” I said. “At least turn around.” He didn’t move. 

I sighed, my cheeks flushing slightly as I undid my jeans, using my good arm to hold myself up as I went, the gravel digging into my palm, but I tried not to pay attention to it. I kept my eyes lowered, not wanting to think about the man watching me pee behind a bush. What was the point of even being behind the bush then? 

I finished, drip drying a little before pulling my pants back on, wiping the gravel off my hand. He dragged me back to the van, strapping me to the seat in the middle. He pulled my wrists together, making me bite my lip as he jerked my bad arm. His grip was steel as he tightened a zip tie around them before slamming the van door, getting in the driver's seat. 

He pulled away from the warehouse, speeding down the road. He was going well above the speed limit, and I was scared if he slammed on the breaks I was going to go flying through the windshield. Though, I was strapped in pretty tight. And I highly doubted he would let me. He would probably catch me before that happened. 

“You know, you’re going to get pulled over.” I said as he sped down a paved road. He didn’t care much though, as he just kept going. 

Until it became true, red and blue flashing lights reflecting in the rearview mirror. He pulled over, putting the van in park before reaching over to the passenger seat to grab a roll of duct tape. He tore a piece off, placing it over my mouth before turning back to face forward. I watched as the officer walked up to the driver's side window, looking slightly startled by the man in front of him. The officer was silent for a moment as he gathered himself. I saw his hand on the holster on his side, crying out just as he pulled it out of the holster, pointing it at the police officer. I jumped, my ears ringing from the shot, my eyes wide, heart pounding as the officer’s body dropped to the ground. The man just straightened in his seat, holstering the gun before pulling away like nothing had happened. Meanwhile I was in the back, trying not to have a panic attack because I’d just watched my captor murder an innocent man like it was nothing. 


	4. Escape Plan

We drove all day, never stopping once. I wondered if he ever got hungry, or had to use the bathroom. From what I’d seen, I wasn’t entirely sure he was even human. He’d murdered an innocent man, a police officer without blinking. Not showing any signs of guilt, or remorse. Granted, I couldn’t see his face, but he was hard set on the road, barely turning his head at all. I was terrified, still in shock from what I’d witnessed as I sat not five feet from him, tied up in a van, heading back to D.C, to my crazy father. I knew I had to get away, but I didn’t know how. He was like the Terminator, and I was a measly, weak girl. 

I knew he’d have to ditch the van eventually. The police would find the body eventually, and they’d see the van license plate on the officer’s camera, and then they’d put an APB out and they’d be on our tail in no time. The nearest town was forty miles away, giving me just enough time to figure out a plan. 

He stayed out of the main part of town, sticking to back roads to try to remain unseen. He pulled over on the side of the road, turning to me, making sure I was secure before getting out of the van. He disappeared, leaving me in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it was a test. Would I escape? Would I try to run? I tried to move my hands, maneuver them so I could possibly slip out, but my injured shoulder was making this much harder. 

I gave up, stilling as I took a moment to breathe. I had managed to break into my father’s office, which he kept under lock and key, hack into his computer, and find a confidential file, which suddenly made me wanted my an ex-Nazi group. And put me in this current situation. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t run. I at least wouldn’t have a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, a black eye, a bruised cheek, or a cut up lip. Or, at least I thought I wouldn’t. 

My dad had never hit me. Sure, he could get aggressive. Passionate. That’s what he’d called it. I called it overly aggressive. But he had never laid a hand on me, or my sister. But verbally...all my childhood I heard: ‘why are you such a baby?’ ‘Don’t be so weak, Olivia.’ ‘Suck it up, Libby.’ Sure, he’d comfort me when I cried for a while, but if I cried too long, he’d call me names, tell me to grow up. Grown ups didn’t cry when they scraped their knee. 

I suddenly felt afraid of what was waiting for me when I got back to D.C. Would he take me back to my father? Or would he turn me over to HYDRA? Put me at the mercy of ex-Nazis. I suddenly felt safer with the machine of a man who kidnapped me off the street. Who had beat me up, kept me in a warehouse for god knows how long. Wait-no Stockholm Syndrome, Libby. This isn’t Beauty and the Beast. This was real. And this monster, wasn’t afraid to kill. 

It was dark by the time he came back, a car pulling up behind the van with the headlights off. I could hear his boots in the gravel as he moved around the van, opening the back doors to pull something out before moving them to the car. I couldn’t see him in the dark. He was nothing more than a ghost in his black uniform. But I supposed that was the idea. Why he wore a mask and goggles, even at night. 

The side door slid open and he reached in, snapping the zip tie like it was nothing. He pulled the duct tape from my mouth, making me whimper. He unbuckled me, pulling me from the van. His hand wrapped around my arm, the injured one of course, pulling me towards the black car.  _ Don’t be so weak, Olivia.  _ My father’s voice echoed in my head.  _ Suck it up, Libby,  _ Yeah, Libby. Put on your big girl panties. 

I swung my free fist, hitting him in the side of the head. He barely moved, but my blood was pumping too fast to even notice. I kneed him in the stomach, and he hunched just slightly, but his grip never wavered. I twisted, threw punches, fought him, screaming. I wasn’t going down without a fight on this one. I finally caught him in the jaw, his mask falling off. He turned away, finally releasing me. I ran to the car, jumping in the driver's seat, grabbing the wires, ready to jump start it, but he moved unlike anything I had seen before. He nearly tore the door off the car, reaching in and grabbing me, throwing me to the road. I landed on the other side of the road from him, gravel digging into my skin as I landed, sliding to a stop. My shoulder was on fire, probably dislocated again. I laid there, watching him from the opposite side of the road. 

He stood there, still, just watching me. His mask was back on, and I could feel his glare from where I laid. I had done it now. Way to go, Libby. You weren’t dead before, but you are now. I half expected him to pull out his gun, just shoot me there. But he didn’t. I rolled over, taking the pressure off my shoulder. My arm was on fire, skin pulled back and bleeding where I’d slid across the gravel. Rocks were stuck in my arm, making me wince as I tried to brush them off. I could hear him approaching me, but I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be home, in bed with a book and some tea. Why had I gone snooping? Snooping only leads to trouble. And I was in deep. 

His hand wrapped around my arm, yanking me to my feet. I screamed as it popped again, and I was sure he had ripped it off. I fell forward against his chest, his solid, hard chest. He was wall of muscle, solid, built to fight, and not to lose. The top of my head barely cleared his shoulder, and he was twice as wide as I was. I was up against this machine, this monster. I was so stupid, thinking I could stand a chance against him. 

He pulled me over to the van, his hand wrapping around my neck before he slammed me against the side. Stars erupted in my vision as my head collided with the metal, a loud banging echoing through the fields around us. I whimpered. Who was I kidding? I was a baby. I was weak. I cried then, letting it all out. Tears spilled down my face as I kept my eyes closed, wanting this all to be a dream. His grip on me didn’t waver though. And I wasn’t waking up. 

He tightened his hold, my eyes flying open as my airway constricted. Maybe this was how he was going to do it. Choke me out, then take my bruised, beaten body back to my dad. Maybe my dad was paying him based on how many bruises I came back with. Bonus for broken bones. 

I gripped his wrist with my good arm, my left not moving no matter how hard I tried to lift it. Maybe he had ripped it off. My hand closed around his wrist, waiting to feel flesh, bone as I squeezed, but his wrist was hard. There was no give to it. No muscle. Just...hard, solid-metal? I had slipped my hand under his jacket sleeve, shocked at the cold underneath. My hand went up further towards his bicep as my vision swam from a lack of oxygen. There was no endpoint, no place where metal met flesh. His entire arm was metal. Oh, that explained so much. He was a machine. Did he think on his own? Or did he have someone controlling his every move? Was that why he had his eyes covered? So the people controlling him could watch? Were they looking at me right now, all bruised, purple faced, crying like a baby? Had they seen everything? 

The dots in my vision got bigger as his hand tightened just slightly, the metal under my hand shifting just seconds before I passed out, finally giving in. 

* * *

 

The Winter Soldier finally let her go when she went limp in his grip. She crumpled to the ground and he stared down at her for a moment. She really was weak. His handler had told him she would put up a fight, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, and his handler was right. He could have broken her in half easily. But she was supposed to come back alive. They didn’t care what state she came back in, his handler telling him to roughen her up just enough that she’d break. She was headstrong, though. She was still trying to escape him, even after what he’d done to her. But maybe, he thought, she was finally breaking. They still had a good fifteen hour drive back to their extraction point, and he’d have to stop and restock supplies, and switch cars again. He still had time. 

But when she’d turned on him, there was something he saw in her face. Determination? Anger? Something had shifted in her, and she hadn’t cared that her punches were nothing to him, he could barely feel them through the armor. She’d kneed him pretty good, but it barely knocked the wind out of him. It was the first time she’d fought him. What had changed? 

He steeled himself. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions. He was supposed to retrieve the girl, and take her to the extraction point alive. That was his mission. She was his mission. 

He picked her up, her body weighing next to nothing to him as he half dragged her to the trunk of the car. He was tired of her already, and she’d almost revealed his identity. He was just a little mad still. So, he put her in the trunk, not bothering to tie her up. He’d completely separated her shoulder when he’d grabbed her a second time, meaning she only had one arm she could use. She’d hit her head pretty hard against the van, probably aggravating her concussion, meaning she’d probably be out of it for the rest of the trip. He’d need to get food and water again. He hadn’t fed her since the day before. She was bound to get hungry again. And if he fed her, that was one last thing he needed to hear her complain about. She’d have to use the bathroom as well eventually. It was sixty miles to the next town on the back road, enough time for her to at least wake back up. No saying what state she’d be in. But if she was still unconscious, he had ways of waking her up. 


	5. Demoted to the Trunk

At first I thought I had been completely blinded. It was dark, and I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. But then my vision cleared and I could see the small strip of red light in front of me. My left arm was numb, until I tried to move it. Then my shoulder cried out in protest, and I realized maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. I reached around with my right arm, rough fabric under me, the top way too close to my head. Then I heard the hum of an engine, the sound of tires on the asphalt. I was in the trunk. He had put me in the trunk. 

I took a deep breath, laying flat on my back. Now was a really bad time to be getting claustrophobic. My stomach churned as we went over a bump, my body jostling slightly, sharp pain shooting through my head. Oh yeah, I’d hit it again against the side of the van. Because I was stupid. And had tried to escape him. The man...machine with a metal arm. Lights flashed behind my eyes as I breathed deeply, my body jerking as he came to a stop. I felt nauseous, the trunk suddenly way too hot, sweat breaking out on my skin. Oh god. 

I yelled, beating on the roof of the trunk, but it was no use, my body jerking as I vomited all over the trunk, and myself. There wasn’t much to the vomit. Mostly bile, stomach acid. But it didn’t smell any better. I cried, pitiful tears falling down my face as I tried not to inhale the smell of vomit, but it was useless. My body rolled slightly, getting more covered in vomit as the car turned, before coming to a stop. The engine shut off and I heard the door open. The trunk popped, but I couldn’t bring myself to push it open. I was a pathetic mess, and the fact that someone else was about to see me like this was just beyond embarrassing. 

I squinted as the trunk opened under a harsh street lamp. He didn’t show any sign of disgust, granted I couldn’t see his face. He hauled me from the trunk, half dragging me towards a closed gas station. It was the middle of the night, the town quiet, most people in bed, businesses closed. Inconspicuous. 

He ripped the handle off the bathroom door before shoving me in. I stumbled, catching myself on the sink as he closed the door. At least he had given me some privacy. I blinked in the harsh florescent light, looking at myself in the mirror. I really was a mess. The swelling under my eye and cheek had gone down, but they were still an ugly purple color. My lip was split in several places, and there was a hand shaped bruise around my neck. I moved my shirt to the side, my shoulder now a black color, and my collarbone was shifted slightly to the side. There was still gravel in my arm, blood smeared on the skin. 

I used the toilet, taking the toilet paper roll with me to the sink as I wiped the vomit from my face, and my hair. I wiped my shirt, trying to get the vomit cleaned off, but it only worked to a point. I dug the gravel out of my arm, cleaning the blood off my skin as best as I could. I took a deep breath, leaning against the sink before using the wall to get to the door on shaky legs. My stomach was still churning, head pounding. I felt like I could pass out at any second. 

He was waiting by the door, plastic bag in hand. He shoved a candy bar at me. A Snickers. I nearly ripped the packaging open, taking a big bite out of it. I was starving, and despite the nausea, I ate the whole bar. He shoved a bottle of water at me then, and I gulped it down, noticing how thirsty I really was. There were other things in the bag, but I didn’t ask questions as he dragged me back to the car. He opened the trunk again, the smell of vomit hitting me. He’d cleaned it up to the best of his ability, but that didn’t help the damp, vomit smell. 

“Please.” I begged, turning to him. “Don’t put me back in there. I won’t say anything, or try to escape. Please.” 

But my words fell on deaf ears. He shoved me back in the trunk, blocking my weak, futile attempts to fight him. He slammed the trunk shut, the sound echoing around me. I screamed, kicked, cried, but he just started the car, driving away from the gas station. I was stuck in the damp, vomit smelling trunk until we got wherever we were going. The least he could have done was knock me out first. Maybe I should have fought harder. But if I hit my head again, I’d probably die. Or at least have significant brain damage. 

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in the trunk. It had gotten light outside, a small strip of yellow light coming through the crack in the trunk door. He hadn’t stopped driving, and I wasn’t sure how far we were from D.C. It couldn’t be that far now. We’d been driving for hours. He never took a break, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t eaten anything at all. Maybe he really was a machine. A robot. 

But when I’d fallen against him on the street before he’d knocked me out a second time, he had been warm. Almost too warm to be natural. I mean, men have higher body temperatures than women anyway, but he had been something else. It had been almost comforting - Stop it Libby! You’re delirious. He’s an evil killing machine and you called him comforting. I wondered if it were possible to suffocate in a trunk, and I was slowly losing my mind from oxygen deprivation, and inhaling my own  CO 2 . 

The car jerked to a stop suddenly, my body rolling slightly from the sudden movement. I whined as pressure was put on my shoulder, tears coming to my eyes. There was a thud as the door was opened and closed, and I could hear him moving around, as well as several other thuds. I didn’t want to think about what was happening. Maybe he was finally going to kill me. Or we had arrived in D.C and he was preparing for someone else to kill me. Lay down a tarp, shoot her there, roll her up, bury her. And I would be over. That would be the end of Libby Pierce. Killed because she was too curious for her own good. The girl that just had to snoop around in her father’s business and see classified information and now she was dead without even having any idea about what she saw because she didn’t bother reading it because she was too freaked out by the fact her father was part of a Nazi organization. Or maybe he’d been pulled over again, but there were no sirens, no nothing. Or maybe someone was out there, and he was going to kill them. 

I screeched, kicking at the trunk, making as much noise as possible. If someone was out there, maybe they could get away, call the police. And I’d be safe from him, and my dad, and HYDRA. But there was no other sound, no gunshots. No yells besides my own. I heard him approach the trunk, nearly ripping it open. I sent a kick at him, but he caught my ankle, the bones snapping under his grip. A high pitched scream sounded in the air, and for a moment I didn’t know it had come from me. But when the shooting pain from my ankle, dulling out everything else registered, I realized it was me that had screamed, and was still screaming. 

He jerked me out of the trunk, my vision blacking out at the force of the movement. I came back to, just in time to see his fist flying towards my face before everything went dark again. 


	6. HYDRA

My face was swollen again, and sticky from dried blood. My nose was plugged, my eye starting to swell, and my lip was split again, still dribbling blood in my mouth. My shoulder and ankle were throbbing, and the rest of my body ached. My head was spinning, vision blurred as I tried to focus. We had changed cars again, this time in a truck. The diesel engine was loud in my ears. I was spread out across the back seat, the seat belts haphazardly belted over me, and my wrists were zip tied together again. There was a duffle bag on the floor by my feet, and another on the passenger seat, along with my backpack. Well...at least he’d had heart enough to grab that. I guess it would be easier to trace if he’d just left it in the alley. If anyone had seen him grab me, they could have found my ID, and alerted the police. Then my face would be everywhere, and it would be harder to transport me. This guy really was smart. Always a step ahead. Thinking things through, and leaving no room for mistakes. I had to commend him on that. Okay. I really was delirious. Maybe I’d been punched in the face too many times. 

I wasn’t quite sure where we were, or how long I’d been out for. But we had to be at least nearing D.C. If not already there. I couldn’t see much of anything except sky through the windows. And the light was nearly blinding me. Stupid concussions. But I did see what I thought was a tree every once in awhile. 

The truck slowed, then turned left, heading down a gravel road, the trees blocking out the harsh sunlight. I turned, trying to see out of the front window, but all I could see were trees. And then the top of an armored van. Oh boy. 

The truck came to a stop, the soldier turning off the engine before getting out. The door over my head opened, the zip ties around my wrist snapping before I was unbuckled and dragged from the cab. I was dizzy as he carried me over his shoulder, his bulky back blocking everything from view. I could hear other footsteps in the gravel, heavy boots and the click of a gun. Maybe this was it. This was where I would die. 

I was dropped to the ground, screaming as my shoulder hit first, my body curling into a ball. Tears were running down my face, mixing with blood. I hurt, and filthy, and probably looked like I picked  a fight with a freight train. 

“Well, she’s still breathing.” I knew that voice. 

A heavy boot kicked me in the side, rolling me over. I whimpered, sobbing a little when I saw who was standing over me. He whistled lowly, his eyes trailing the length of my body. 

“You really did a number on her, Asset. Good job. Maybe the brat has learned her lesson.” Rumlow turned, speaking to the men behind him. “Get her loaded in the truck and take her back to base. Call Pierce and tell him we found her.” 

Two other men came forward, pulling me up under my arms. I whimpered as my broken ankle dragged along the ground, my shoulder at a painful angle from the men dragging me into the truck. I turned, looking back at the man...the Asset. He was stock still, his face still covered as he waited instruction. I thought I saw his face turn just barely in my direction, but I could have just imagined it. 

They strapped me in the armored truck, two of them getting in the back with me before another two got in the front. The two in the back didn’t say anything as we drove to what I assumed was D.C. I tried to shift in my seat to get more comfortable, but it was too painful. I clenched my left eye shut, since the right was almost swollen closed, trying not to make a sound, scared they might shoot me if I did. Though I doubted it. They mentioned my father, which meant I would probably live long enough to see him, but afterwards...I didn’t know. Maybe if I told them I didn’t know anything besides the name, they’d let me live. Have a little more mercy than the Asset. 

I didn’t see where they went, as there were no windows in the truck, but we were inside the city. I knew that much. They unloaded me on a dock of sorts, dragging me down far underground, into a bank? It was abandoned, and had been for a long time. Good place to murder someone and never have them found. 

They opened up a vault, Rumlow and the Asset inside. The two men dragging me to a chair, plopping me down rather harshly. 

“You stink like vomit.” Rumlow said, moving around to my side. “Find me a shirt.” He said to one of the guards before pulling out a knife, my heart rate jumping. 

He cut my vomit covered shirt off, something I was partially grateful for, after having been in it for a while. But I was also in nothing but a bra and my pants in a room full of men. I hugged my left arm to my chest, both to keep it in a comfortable position, and to try and cover myself a little. 

“Aww, don’t be modest, sweetheart.” Rumlow said, tapping the underside of my chin with the knife. “It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.” His words didn’t reassure me. 

The guard came back with a large black t-shirt. Rumlow pulled it over my head, and I braced myself, expecting him to yank my arms through, but he was surprisingly gentle. A little uncharacteristic from what I’d seen. 

I gulped when he moved out of the way, my father standing in the entrance to the vault. He didn’t say anything as he entered, walking towards me with his hands in his pockets. I was aware of the presence behind me, Rumlow there in case I decided to do something stupid. 

“Olivia Lorraine.” My father said, sighing. “I thought better of you. Breaking into my office, looking at classified information, then running away to sell our secrets.” 

“I didn’t read anything.” I said, but my response was a smack across the face. I whimpered, tasting blood on my tongue. 

My father gripped my chin, tugging my head back so I was looking at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” I just gave him a hard stare. “You’ve always been the problem child. Headstrong, but a free spirit like your mother. You’ve caused me a lot of trouble over the years, but this is by far the worst.” 

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” I asked, spitting blood out of my mouth. 

“That would be what everyone would expect. After all that’s the penalty for finding out information you’re not supposed to know. ‘I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you.’ That’s how the saying goes, right?” He leaned down so we were eye to eye. “But that’s not how HYDRA works. I don’t know how much you saw, or how much you know, but that doesn’t matter to me now. You need to be taught a lesson. A lesson in order. Because that’s HYDRA’s mission. Bring order to the world. But you’re too willful to obey our orders. That’s why we sent the Asset. He’d break you, and maybe you’d start to understand. But I see that didn’t work. So now, we’re going to have to approach this a different way. And I know the perfect person to help you on this journey.” My dad straightened up, looking past me at Rumlow. “See to it that she is straightened out. And don’t stop until she’s ready to comply with our rules.” 

He turned walking back towards the vault entrance. I winced, biting my lip so hard it bled as Rumlow’s hand came down on my left shoulder, squeezing. 

“You hear that, princess? It’s just you and me-” 

He was cut off, his hand disappearing from my shoulder before a thud echoed around the room. Both my dad and I turned, the Asset had him pinned to the vault wall, one hand holding his wrist, the other around his neck. He didn’t say anything, just stared hard at Rumlow. 

“Contain him.” I heard my dad say, and the other guards moved forward, pulling the Asset away from Rumlow. 

Rumlow coughed, rubbing his neck. “I see someone got a little attached. Or maybe he wants to do it himself.” The Asset jerked slightly in the guard’s grips. 

“Rumlow, get the Asset out of here, and send a doctor in. Have him look at Olivia.” 

Rumlow nodded, running his hand down my hair in passing as he followed the guards who were leading the Asset out of the vault. My dad grabbed Rumlow’s shoulder, pulling him close. 

“We can finish this later. Once the Asset is contained, and your hands are free, she’s all yours.” 

I felt my blood run cold, my heart sinking at those words as Rumlow turned, smirking at me before following the Asset out of the vault. 

 


	7. Breaking

“Broken ankle...separated shoulder...multiple lacerations on back of left arm...broken nose...bruised cheek...possible blindness in right eye. Malnourished, severely dehydrated. Concussion.” 

“Get her some water and food before she passes out.” Rumlow said. “I need her awake for this.” 

“She may need surgery on her shoulder to reset it properly.” 

“That can wait. She’ll need more than that after I’m done with her.” Rumlow said, cracking his knuckles. 

I sunk back a little in the chair, as the doctor prodded my face some more. My dad had left, having more important things to do, leaving me in the hands of HYDRA. So far they had been nice, but I knew the ugly side. It was staring right at me. 

“Send that to Pierce.” Rumlow said, speaking to the doctor. “He’ll make the final decision.” He moved towards me, squatting down so we were eye-level. “Hi sweetheart. I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced. My name’s Brock, but you can call me Rumlow. Everyone does.” His tone was mockingly sweet. “We’re going to know a lot about each other after this is over. His hand cupped the left side of my face, sliding down to my chin. “He roughed you up pretty good, but I don’t think you’ll be able to walk after I’m done with you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair I was sitting in. “Your daddy had some questions he wanted me to ask you. Tell the truth, and I’ll go easy. Lie to me...well, just reflect back on what I said earlier. Do you understand me, princess?” I nodded. He gripped my chin harder, pulling me forward so our noses were almost touching. “I want to hear you say it.” He growled. 

“Yes.” I whispered. 

“Yes, what?” 

I swallowed, slightly disgusted. “Yes, sir.” I said, louder. 

He smirked, leaning back away, releasing me. “I like hearing you say that. Maybe if you survive this I’ll recruit you. Put you on my team. Then I can hear you say it all the time.” 

I bit back a remark, goosebumps forming on my skin. I was suddenly remembering all the times I purposely left because they were coming over. This was definitely one of those reasons I did that. They were all a bunch of sick bastards. 

“What do you know about Project Insight?” Rumlow asked, standing up. 

“Nothing. Just the name, and something about a helicarrier.” I said. 

I jumped slightly as he slammed his hands down on the chair arms, leaning in close to my face. “What was it I said about lying?” 

“I’m not lying.” I said, my voice raising in panic. “I didn’t have time to read it. I saw HYDRA and panicked.” 

“Why would you do a thing like that?” He asked, smirking a little. 

“I’m not stupid. I know-” 

My words were cut off as his hand wrapped around my throat, cutting off my airway. 

“Don’t use that tone with me, little girl. You’re not in a position to be sassy. I’m not under strict orders like the Asset was. I can mark you up all I want, however I want.” He released me, shoving me back in the chair, making me bite my lip as my shoulder was jostled. “And I’m starting to think threats aren’t really working for me. The Asset couldn’t even break you completely. Your father was right. You are headstrong.” He said, taking a knife from his belt. “I like the strong ones. They’re more fun to break.” 

*********

The Asset jerked in his seat as a scream echoed down the hall. The guards all shifted, even the doctors pausing as they checked him over. His handler had told him to expect that, and to enjoy it as the girl he’d kidnapped and fought with was finally taught to comply. Much like he was. He didn’t remember, of course, he just knew. He was a soldier meant to carry out missions. He wasn’t supposed to feel. But now he didn’t have a mission. He’d given his handler his mission report, and he was told to sit and wait for his next mission. He’d done it a hundred times before. But usually, he didn’t bring back bodies. Much less live ones. 

So when another scream echoed down the hall, he tensed. A part of him, a part he didn’t know wondered what they were doing to her. His handler had asked if he wanted to do it. But he hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t part of his mission. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions. He was confused. His head hurt. 

A third scream, this one a desperate cry of ‘please’ that was cut off far too early rang through the hall and his blood was boiling. But he wasn’t entirely sure why. He didn’t understand. He reached out, grabbing the doctor’s wrist before the man could touch him, feeling the bones shatter under his metal hand. The guards turned their guns on him as the second doctor restrained him in the chair. He seethed, fighting against the restraints, but they were designed for him, designed to keep him under control in a situation like this, when he could possibly break the wall put up by wiping his memories. But that didn’t stop him as he fought for a reason even he couldn’t quite understand. 

********

My body was burning. The chair had been flipped, landing in a corner when he’d thrown me. He was strong, but not quite as strong as the Asset. I suppose it hurt more because I was already beat up and severely injured. But he had a knife, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. The Asset had several weapons on him, but he never used one the entire time, relying only on his strength. Huh. I really was weak. 

I screamed as Rumlow’s boot came down on my broken ankle. The sound echoed around the vault, and probably out into the hallway. I wasn’t sure who all was in the bank, but if they didn’t know I was there before, they did now. 

Rumlow grabbed a fistfull of my hair, yanking me back to my feet. He pulled me back against his chest, wrapping one arm around my waist to hold me up, the other, still holding the knife, grabbed my chin, tilting my head back. 

“This position...” He ground his hips against my ass. “You and I are going to get to know it very well.” 

I struggled, landing an elbow to his ribs, making him grunt slightly. He growled, grabbing my left arm and yanking it behind my back. I screamed again, tears running down my face. 

“Separated shoulder. Doesn’t feel good, does it? You’re just lucky he didn’t rip it right off. He can get a little rough sometimes. Forgets his own strength. Lucky for you, I like things a little rough.” He said, licking the tears from my cheek. 

I whimpered, struggling against him. 

“Mm, I wouldn’t do that too much. You’re getting me all excited.” 

I stilled, my breaths shaky, broken up by quiet sobs. The tears were still falling, my shoulder feeling like it was being ripped off. 

“Ah yes. The feeling of an innocent soul being tattered. You’re breaking, princess. You can’t hide that from me. I’ve broken enough people to see it.” His free hand slid up my shirt, his skin rough, calloused against my stomach. 

“No. No.” I struggled again. “Please.” I sobbed, trying to get him off me. “Please!” 

He shoved me down, my head hitting the concrete and everything was black. Again. 

********

Rumlow stared down at Olivia, her body limp on the floor by his feet. Maybe he’d thrown her down a little too hard. She was already concussed. This just meant a longer recovery time. He could have taken her then, but he wanted her to be awake. Clean. Not smelling like vomit and blood and panic. He wanted her healed up so she could fight him when he broke her completely. He was going to drag this out. Make her suffer longer. But for now, he had a restless Asset to entertain before their real work began. 


	8. Nurse Brock

I was coming in and out of consciousness. I couldn’t feel anything, the pain completely gone. I was aware of people standing over me, talking. But I couldn’t make out words. They were all mushed together, my brain not able to make sense of it before I was unconscious again. 

I was laying down on a bed, feeling like I was floating on a cloud. After everything I’d been through in the past couple of days, I felt like crying from how it felt being in bed. I sighed, but the relief didn’t last long. There was a deep throbbing in my arm and my leg, and a steady pulse in my head. I groaned, shifting slightly, but regretted it when I moved my shoulder. My lips were dry and my mouth felt like cotton. I tried to wet my lips, get some saliva built up when a straw pushed itself past my lips. I didn’t care that the water was probably drugged. I was so thirsty. 

I whined a little when it was pulled away, a soft chuckle meeting my ears. 

“Careful, Princess. Don’t drink too much.” 

I groaned a little. Okay, it was nice while it lasted. I cracked my eyes open, a familiar ceiling over my head. It was blurry, but I knew exactly where we were. I turned my head, seeing Rumlow sitting on my left, flipping through a magazine. I kept blinking, trying to clear my right eye, but it was blurry, and I could only see shapes. 

“I don’t know how you women read this stuff.” He said, flipping a magazine page dramatically. “Or why you would take their fashion advice.” Says the man who lives in black fatigues apparently. “Anyways.” He sighed, closing the magazine and putting it on the nightstand before leaning forward in his seat. “Legally blind in right eye from a detached retina, completely severed ligaments of left shoulder, infected cuts on back of left arm with gravel still present, shattered right ankle and one massive concussion. And you still have the nerve to glare at me like I’m the scum of the Earth.” Well you are. “You are a tough kid, I gotta say. You get that from your old man.” He lifted the glass of water again, putting the straw up to my lips. He watched me drink, his head tilted slightly as he stared at my lips. It was unnerving, but I was thirsty and sore. “Your daddy had you brought back here after the docs patched you up. Thought you’d heal faster in a familiar place. That, and the old bank’s not entirely sanitary. Don’t need you getting more infected than you already are. The engineers are working on the eyesight problem, and the rest just need time to heal. Time we’ll be spending together.” 

I couldn’t help the groan that came out. I didn’t want to spend more time with him. I didn’t want to spend any time with him period. I knew what his plan was, and the faster I healed, the sooner it would come. 

He smirked at me, and I cursed my overly expressive face. “You know it’ll happen. I could take you now and you couldn’t do anything about it. But you don’t look up to it, and I don’t want to risk you passing out before the good part. You had a pretty nasty head wound. Granted, I didn’t really help that much, but you’re here, and aware. Well, to a point. Are you hungry? I can have food brought in. Your housekeeper...what’s her name? Renata? She’s been wonderfully accommodating.” 

“Don’t you dare hurt her.” I said, glaring at him as best I could. 

“Oh, don’t worry. We filled her in on your accident on your way home from a trip to visit your sister. She’s been making sure both you, and your security guard are well taken care of. She makes wonderful chicken soup. Would you like some? I’m sure you’re hungry after everything.” He stood up, walking around the bed towards the door. He stopped on my right side, leaning down and taking my chin in his hand. “We’ve got a lot more to talk about when I get back, princess.” 

Being spoon fed chicken soup by Brock Rumlow was humiliating, to say the least. He insisted on helping me, despite the fact that I was very capable of doing it myself. I had a feeling he just wanted me to be as uncomfortable as possible. He even blew on the soup to cool it before he fed me. At least he wasn’t making airplane noises. 

“I see you’re being well taken care of.” I choked a little when I heard my father’s voice. Some of the soup dribbled down my chin and Rumlow grabbed a napkin, wiping it up. 

“I don’t want her straining herself.” Rumlow said, offering me more, but I shook my head. Both him, and my father shared a smirk before they were staring at me again. 

“I’m sorry for my absence, but I’ve been busy at work. The doctors have filled me in on your progress. Rumlow and his team will be gone next week on business, but I’ll have other security detail in place while he’s gone.” 

I didn’t want to think about what kind of business they would be doing. 

“Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart.” Rumlow said, smirking. 

“Can’t imagine it.” I said, leaning back against my pillows. 

“There’s the sass I’ve been looking for.” My father said. “Looks like it will be a quick recovery after all.” I knew there was hidden meaning in those words, and Rumlow knew it as well. 

I wasn’t sure why they were bothering to patch me up. They were just going to beat me up, hurt me again. But I guess that was just part of the plan. It’s no fun breaking already broken toys further. New, shiny ones were always more fun to play with. And to break. 

My dad walked over to my bedside, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours.” He said before leaving me alone with Rumlow again. 

“He’s such a good, caring father.” Rumlow said, leaning back in his seat. “Went through all that trouble when he found out you were missing. Sent out only the best to go and get you.” 

I gulped a little, thinking back about the Asset. How he’d almost protected me from Rumlow. He’d seen that Rumlow was hurting me, and pulled him away. It didn’t make sense to me, why he would beat me up like that, and then protect me. Unless it was some kind of messed up HYDRA pact. I beat her up first, so she’s mine. However that worked. 

“Don’t worry about your friend the Asset. He’s being well taken care of. In fact, he probably doesn’t remember you exist.” 

“What?” 

“How do you think we got him so well trained? No one with their own free will would act like that. So we took it away. And we keep taking it away. He’s nothing more than a dog, trained to do what he’s told, and only that. He doesn’t think for himself, and when he starts to, we take that away. Remind him he’s a soldier. He fights for us. He gets what we want done, and he’ll do it by whatever means necessary. I heard he got a little twitchy when he heard you screaming. Broke one of the doctor’s wrists. Crushed it, was more like it. They had to restrain him, nearly shot him. So they took him back, broke him. Started off new. Fresh. Like he should be. With no feeling to get in the way.” 

I don’t know why it made me a little sad. Not just because of the horrible things they’d probably done to him to make him forget. It made me a little nervous at what they were capable of doing when they talked about breaking me. I already knew part of the plan, but knowing them, it was far deeper than that. But the thought that the Asset had been tortured because he’d shown emotion because I was being hurt...it made me sad. And the idea that he wouldn’t remember me, made me a little disappointed. And I wasn’t sure exactly why. 

 


	9. Creepy Uncle

The week Rumlow was gone was the best week I’d had in a long time. I was able to sit up without having a splitting headache and nausea now. I was also getting used to having basically one eye, and most of my other minor injuries were healed. Now I just needed to work on my ankle and shoulder. But not too quickly. I didn’t want to rush my impending doom. 

It was nice, not having Rumlow there from the time I was awake, to the time I went to sleep, feeding me, holding my water for me. Making sure I was comfortable. Helping me to the bathroom. He at least let me be alone inside the bathroom, unlike someone else. His replacement “guard” left me pretty much on my own. He got me food and water when I needed them, but besides that, I never really saw him. I was actually starting to like him for that. Not having to hover over me like Rumlow. But I knew Rumlow did that just to make my life a living hell. He wanted to break me, and he’d do anything in his power to make it happen. And apparently he included humiliating me in that as well. 

I regretted the day he was coming back. It was raining outside, the weather seeming to channel how I was feeling. I had been lucky enough to fall asleep, sleeping most of that day. I had tried to walk the day before, and that had gone downhill quickly, and I was tired. But when I woke up to Rumlow stroking my hair, leaning close to my face, I thought I was in a living nightmare. 

“Wakey, wakey, princess.” He said, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I jerked my head away, wincing as my neck cracked. “Someone’s a little stiff.” He said, straightening up. “Maybe we should stretch you out a little. Wouldn’t want you having to relearn how to walk.” The look on his face said he’d love that. 

I sat up, swinging my legs off the side of the bed, wincing as my hip popped, the sound almost echoing in the room. My heart jumped in my chest as the bed dipped behind me. I swallowed nervously, my breath stuck in my lungs as I felt him kneel behind me. I flinched slightly as his fingers touched my right shoulder. They were feather light, barely there as they ran down the back of my right arm. 

I exhaled shakily, which turned into a gasp when I felt his knees by my hips, his breath fanning over my ear. 

“Breathe.” He whispered, his fingers moving to my forearm, his thumb tracing the inside of my elbow. “You don’t want me to resuscitate you, do you?” He asked, his fingers brushing my hair over my left shoulder. He hummed as his fingers traced the back of my neck, pressing a little harder to feel the indent of my spine. “Your skin is so soft.” He whispered, leaning in closer to my ear, his hand running back up my arm. “So...delicate.” His fingers traced my throat and I leaned back, winding up hitting his chest. “I could break you so easily.” He said, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Right here. Right now.” I felt him smirk, leaning up slightly. “But that would be too easy.” He said, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. 

“I have to use the bathroom.” I said quietly, my heart still pounding in my ears, my chest constricting as I tried to breathe. 

“Of course.” 

He helped me to the bathroom, and I locked the door behind me, not wanting any intrusions. I leaned against the counter, staring into the mirror. I was pale, paler than usual. My hair was limp, the normally shiny blonde strands were dull, hanging limply by my face. I ran the water, splashing some on my face, trying to get the feel of Rumlow’s hands off my skin. He was doing a very good job of making me as uncomfortable as possible. 

I waited a few more seconds, taking a moment to breathe before I opened the door. Rumlow was sitting back by my bed, flipping through another magazine. 

“Can I go outside today?” I asked, leaning against the door frame. 

“Why would you want to do that?” He asked, tossing the magazine aside. 

“Well, it’s nice out, and it’s been days since I’ve been outside, and I think a little sun would be good for me. Get a little vitamin D to help speed up the healing process.” 

Rumlow thought for a moment, regarding me with a careful eye. “I think you’re right. What would a little sun hurt?” 

I changed my clothes before letting Rumlow help me out of my room, and out into the backyard. He sat me down in a lawn chair on the patio, making sure I was situated, before pulling his own chair over next to me. It really was nice outside, the early spring air not too warm, and the sun felt fantastic. I closed my eyes, breathing a sigh as I leaned back in the lawn chair. Rumlow eyed me for a moment before leaning back himself. It was silent between us, the only sound coming from the water feature across the yard, and the occasional bird. 

I could feel Rumlow starting to twitch beside me. Apparently sitting still and enjoying nature wasn’t his thing. Thankfully his phone beeped, offering him a distraction. 

“I have to take this. Don’t move.” He said, getting up from his chair.

“Oh yes, because I’m going to run across the yard and hop the fence to escape while you’re gone.” I said, sarcastically. 

He just gave me a look before going inside, answering his phone. I relaxed again, enjoying the silence even more without Rumlow. I did debate heading across the yard. There was a place where the fence opened around the side of the yard, but in this state, I don’t think I could make it to the fence before he got back, much less go anywhere on foot. And I didn’t have a key to any car here, since mine had been “totaled” in my accident. I wondered how long it took them to come up with that. Probably not very long since my dad had successfully lied to me for my entire life. It had me questioning everything. Did my sister know? Is that why she left so quickly? Why she obeyed him without question? Because she knew something like this would happen to her if she didn’t? Was she a part of HYDRA as well? What about my mother? Did she know? Was she HYDRA too? Was HYDRA the reason she was dead? What if she found out and my dad had her killed because of it? 

So many thoughts were flying through my head, I almost didn’t notice when Rumlow came back. 

“You have to go back inside. I have some things I need to take care of.” He said, pulling me to my feet. 

“Wait, will you leave me in the living room?” He gave me a look. “Rumlow, I can barely stand on my own. How do you think I’m going to run away with no car, no way to call anyone. You found me once, it’s not like it would be that hard for you to find me again. For all I know, you implanted a tracker inside me, so you’ll always know where I am.” He smirked. “Oh god you did do that, didn’t you.” 

“I suppose you can stay in the living room until I get back. Your dad’s supposed to be coming back from his business trip tonight. Maybe we can sit around, have dinner like a normal family.” 

“You’re not part of my family.” 

“Oh, come on. I already have my own room. I take care of you all day. I’m practically family.” 

“Yeah, the creepy uncle.” I murmured, but I knew he’d heard me by the way his grip on my side tightened. 

Maybe I should tread just a little lighter. Curse my stupid sassy brain with no filter. 


	10. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely one of the darkest chapters I've written yet.

A couple weeks passed, and I was almost completely healed. I had the cast taken off my ankle, but I still had a limp. My shoulder was completely healed, only a faint scar left. It made me nervous, knowing what was coming. I knew he could have done it weeks ago, but that was too easy. Making me wait was part of his plan. Break me down until it finally happened. Kill me with the suspense. 

I should have seen it coming. I should have known it could happen any day. I had let myself slip, keeping myself unguarded. Not staying on my toes like I had been. I was half undressed, and I didn’t even hear him come in. He made no sound on the carpet, not even the rustle of clothing. I didn’t know he was there, until his hand had covered my mouth, his other arm snaking around my waist. I screamed, struggling against him, but it wasn’t worth it. 

He forced me, face down on the bed, one of his hands holding my wrists behind my back. 

“No, please!” I cried, trying to fight, but it was no use. 

“He’s not going to listen to you, sweetheart.” Rumlow said, casually walking in the door. “He only listens to me.” 

I whimpered as pressure was placed on my back, two cold, metal fingers on either side of my neck. 

“You didn’t think it would be me doing the honors, did you?” Rumlow asked, walking towards where I was bent over the bed. “As much as I would enjoy that, I thought this would be more fun.” Rumlow nodded and the pressure was gone, Rumlow taking his place, yanking me up by my hair. “And you’re already halfway ready for us.” Rumlow held me tightly against him, his hand tangled in my hair, holding my head back. “You see him?” 

I did. Here he was, standing in front of me. The last time I’d seen him, he was still completely covered, his identity completely anonymous. He had defended me the last time we’d been in a room together. Now...now I could see his face. He was scruffy looking, stubble on his chin, his hair hanging in his face. But he was handsome, strong jaw, high cheekbones, light blue, almost grey eyes. And there was nothing in them. No emotion, no...anything. It made him seem inhuman, a machine, the metal arm helping that. His stare was blank as he looked at me. 

“See, like I said. He doesn’t even remember you. That just makes it more fun.” Rumlow shoved me down on the bed, trading places with the Asset again. “He probably hasn’t had a hard-on in 50 years, so I may need to help get the ball rolling here. Well, at least for him.” Rumlow said, and I heard a zipper, followed by some rustling. 

There was a cold hand on my lower back, before fingers curled around my sweatpants, literally ripping them off, exposing me to the cool air in the room. I yelped, trying to quiet myself. 

“Don’t worry about that, princess.” Rumlow said, brushing the hair from my face. “Renata was given the rest of the day off. Scream as loud as you want. No one’s going to hear you.” There was more rustling. “You remember where to stick it, right? Just like we talked about.” 

I whimpered as a finger probed my slit, my pleads getting louder as a metal finger inserted itself into my most secret of places. I had been stupid, saving myself for marriage. I regretted that now. It meant this was only going to be more painful. 

“Ooh, tight one, isn’t she?” Rumlow said, his hand holding down my writhing body as I tried to wiggle my way free. 

“Please, Asset.” I whimpered and suddenly I was yanked up by my hair, a rough hand grabbing my chin painfully tight. 

“You don’t get to call him that.” Rumlow growled, squeezing my jaw. “You don’t get to call him anything.” Rumlow shoved my head down into my mattress, muffling all sound. 

I screamed as a metal hand gripped my hip painfully tight, stopping all movement. If I moved too much, or tried to escape, I was going to break something else. The hand adjusted my hips before I felt him. I wasn’t sure if it was him doing it, or if Rumlow was helping him, but I didn’t want to know. 

“Please.” I whimpered, trying to look back at them through my hair that was stuck to my face from my tears and the nervous sweat that had started to form. “Please, no.” 

My only answer was excruciating pain. I screamed, clawing at the comforter as I felt like I was being ripped in half. Rumlow was speaking, saying something, but my ears were ringing. I’d endured a lot of pain over the past few weeks, yet none of it was like this. This was more than physical pain. I was sure the comforter was going to rip with how tightly I was gripping it. 

He started moving, the fabric of his cargo pants rough against my ass as he moved in and out of me. I cried, and sobbed, begging for it to be over quickly. He gripped my hips again, lifting me further onto the bed so not even my toes were on the floor anymore. I had to grip, no anchor, I was just floating. I wished I could be numb as he tore through me, another scream leaving my lips as he pulled my legs further apart, allowing him to go deeper. 

The leather of his uniform was rough against my back as he folded himself over me, his arms coming up by mine, his metal hand nearly ripping the comforter as he gripped it. I could hear his small grunts in my ear, his breath fanning over my shoulder. I cried out as his thrusts grew harder, his hips slamming against my ass. Two of his flesh fingers forced their way into my mouth, shoving clear back to the second knuckle, muffling my cries. I gagged on them every time he thrust into me, drool slipping out around them, dripping on to the comforter. I gripped both his wrists, begging for mercy, anything, but I got nothing in return. 

I had no tears left as he tore his fingers from my mouth, leaving a coppery taste behind. His hands flew to my hips as he jerked upright. Rumlow pulled him back and I felt him, hot against my skin, painting me with his seed. My walls were clenching painfully from being stretched, ripped apart, violated. Small cries of pain and whimpers were all I had left as Rumlow cupped my chin, jerking my head up. 

“Smile for the camera.” He said, and through my hair I could see a video camera, set up against the wall. 

Rumlow released me, and I laid there, limp. Numb. Empty. 

“You made my Asset bleed.” Rumlow said, pulling me up, ignoring my cry of protest. 

Indeed I had made him bleed. There were teeth marks on his knuckles, blood starting to pool in a couple of them. Rumlow shoved me on my side on the bed, and I slipped off the edge, thumping to the floor, crying out in pain. 

“Clean yourself up. I’ll be back later.” Rumlow said, tucking the Asset back in his pants before leading him from my room, grabbing the camera on his way out. 

He slammed and locked the door, and I sat there, sobbing into the side of my bed. There were blood and semen stains on my comforter, and my thighs. I could feel the Assets semen drying on my back, making my skin feel tight. My abdomen hurt, my pelvis feeling like it had been pried apart. Every inhale hurt, but I couldn’t stop the sobs that left me. I felt dirty, defiled. And at most, betrayed. I couldn’t believe I had actually started to feel something for that machine. Sure, he had beat me up, half blinded me, almost tore my arm off, but he had defended me. From Rumlow. Rumlow had said he’d fought when he’d heard me scream. But whatever they’d done to him, that man was gone. He was a machine again. Just completing his mission. Rumlow was right. That was worse than if he had done it. I would have rather had Rumlow, than the Asset. Maybe I finally was breaking. 

******

Rumlow led the Asset from Olivia’s room. He could still hear her crying as he walked down the hall. Pierce was sitting in the living area with a glass of wine. He had his back to the two, but he heard them approach. He heard everything. 

“If she’s not broken now, she will be when I’m finished with her.” Rumlow said. 

“You didn’t hurt her too badly, did you?” Pierce asked, turning his head slightly. 

“No. Not physically at least. She made him bleed, though. Got his knuckles with her teeth.” Rumlow said, examining the Asset’s hand. It had stopped bleeding, already showing signs of healing. 

“Take him back to base.” Pierce said. “Get him situated, then come back here.” 

“And Olivia?” Rumlow asked, looking back at her door for a moment. 

“I’ll go in and check on her in a while. Make sure she doesn’t drown herself in the bathtub.” Pierce said, rather nonchalantly as he took a sip from his wine glass, not bothering to turn around as Rumlow left with the Asset. Maybe Olivia was finally breaking. 


	11. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a priest and some holy water. ASAP

I ended up dragging myself to the bathroom. I had tried to stand, but had been torn in half with pain, falling back to the floor. I had major carpet burn, but I didn’t care. It was just another thing to add to the pain I was already feeling. I started the shower, leaning pitifully on the side of the tub. I couldn’t cry anymore. I had no tears left. My whimper was even pitiful, halfhearted as I hauled myself into the tub, just sitting under the spray, not caring about the temperature. 

I watched as blood mixed with water and semen, flowing down the drain. Even under the water I still felt dirty. Like I couldn’t wash what had happened off. I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have even bothered. I knew it wasn’t over for me. Rumlow said he’d be back. That was only the first act. There was still another coming. 

I turned the water on warm and grabbed my washcloth and soap, scrubbing my skin until it was raw. I scrubbed the rest of the Asset’s semen off my back, as well as in between my legs. I pulled myself from the shower, the warm water having relaxed my muscles just a tad. I leaned against the counter, staring at myself in the mirror. My jaw was slightly bruised from where Rumlow had gripped it, and a nasty bruise on my hip from the Asset. My ass was raw from his pants rubbing against my skin, and I was sure I was bruised between my legs, if I could see inside. 

I brushed my teeth before limping out of the bathroom, grabbing a baggy t-shirt, before staring at my bed. The comforter was wrinkled, a small tear in the middle from the Asset’s metal hand. There was a blood stain on the side and the smell of sweat was heavy in the room. I sighed, knowing the bed was only going to be defiled more. I sucked it up, sliding under the covers before rolling on my side, staring out the window. How easy it would be to just throw myself through it, then run. Get out. But they’d find me. They always would. 

I wasn’t sure how long I laid there before the door opened. I tensed, waiting to hear Rumlow’s voice, but I was surprised. 

“I brought you some water.” My father said, walking around the bed. “And a sandwich. I thought you’d be hungry.” He set both down on my nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You understand why this had to happen, right?” I didn’t say anything, just kept my eyes trained on the tree outside my window. “Why we had to go to these extensive measures. If you weren’t so hardheaded. This all could have been avoided.” 

I waited until he left before I moved, sitting up slightly. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was my fault. Curse my hardheadedness. I grabbed the water, gulping half of it down. I was thirsty, my throat raw from screaming. I wasn’t sure I had anything left after that. I didn’t know when Rumlow was going to be back, so I guessed I should eat up. I didn’t know when I’d have a chance to again. 

The peanut butter and jelly was mocking me. It was such an innocent sandwich, I almost felt dirty eating it. I wasn’t innocent anymore. I didn’t deserve it. Kids ate peanut butter and jelly. Innocent children. Children who didn’t understand the evils in the world. The evil I’d endured over the past few weeks. It made me sick, but I knew I needed to eat it. No matter how dirty it made me feel. 

I was almost asleep, almost in the grasp of my nightmares when the door was slammed shut. Or at least it sounded that way to my half asleep brain. He was on me in a second, tearing the covers off, exposing me to the cool air. He straddled my waist, holding me down as I fought him. It was half-heartedly, but I still fought, knowing if I did what he wanted, it would be over quicker. 

I yelped as he jerked my arms over my head, using a rope to tie them together. His fingers trailed down my arms to my t-shirt, one hand moving to his belt, grabbing a knife before I was suddenly exposed to the air. I squirmed, but he wrapped his hand around my neck, cutting off my air. 

“The more you fight, the harder it will be.” He said, tracing my cheek with the flat side of the knife. 

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as his hands cupped my breasts. His calloused fingers were rough on my skin, and I tried to ignore the feeling as he tweaked my nipple, making goosebumps rise on my skin. I shivered slightly at the feeling, appalled at my body for having that reaction. Rumlow chuckled, leaning down to press his lips against my throat, tangling his hand in my hair to expose more skin. 

I whimpered as he bit down, leaving bruises in his wake, clear down to my chest. Another whimper left me as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. 

“Keep acting like that and it will be over before you know it.” He said, his voice husky. 

He slid down my body, biting at the skin around my belly button before he pulled my knees apart, making me wince. I was still sore from the first act, and I knew this wasn’t going to feel good. His hands ran down my thighs as he stared at me, a predatory look in his eyes. He leaned down, breathing warm air over my sensitive skin and I wiggled my arms trying to get free. The ropes bit at my skin, and it seemed like the more I struggled, the tighter they got. I glowered at him as he was preoccupied, closing my hands into fists. I moved my arms, swinging them as he lifted his head again, catching his jaw. 

“You little bitch!” He yelled, grabbing my hands with one of his, the other going around my neck, cutting off my air. “I was going to go easy on you, but it looks like you haven’t quite learned your lesson yet.” 

He released my neck, making me cough as air rushed back into my lungs. He undid his pants, pulling his length out before he was shoving himself inside me. My scream was broken, harsh against my raw throat as he slammed into me. No warning, no time to adjust. I was already sore, but now I was being torn in half again. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them over my head again. I turned my head, trying to look away from him as he thrust into me, but he wasn’t having that. He wrapped his hand around my neck again, pulling me back to look at him. 

“This is your fault.” He said, his voice breathy from the exertion. “It’s all your fault. You brought this on yourself. Just keep telling yourself that.” He said, smirking down at me. 

My walls clenched around him and his smirk disappeared, a groan leaving his lips. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain, the sound of Rumlow’s grunts and moans as he pounded into me. A tear rolled down the side of my face, falling into my hair. It was my fault. It was all my fault. 

Rumlow pulled out of me, rubbing his length before he came on my stomach and chest. 

He took a moment to breathe before he ran his thumb over my stomach, gathering some of his semen. He shifted forward slightly, running his thumb over my lips. 

“Next time, we’re gonna use that pretty little mouth of yours. How would you like that? Sucking the Asset’s cock. Making him come. Drinking it all up-” He jerked back as I bit his thumb. “You bitch.” He grabbed my jaw again, making me whine as he forced my mouth open. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you.” He used his free hand to wipe up some semen from my chest. “We’ll break that.” He said, forcing his fingers into my mouth, almost shoving them down my throat. He was salty on my tongue, making me gag. “I’m not nearly finished with you yet. Now,” He removed his fingers, gathering more semen. “You’re going to clean this up.” He said, forcing his fingers into my mouth again. 

I was sure I blacked out at some point. I was humiliated. Even more so than before. After he’d cleaned every last drop from my skin, he’d forced me on my hands and knees, shoving his half-hard length into my mouth. I’d been so busy trying not to suffocate, I didn’t think about biting him. He was merciless, hitting the back of my throat as he nearly ripped my scalp off. I was sure I’d passed out for a moment from holding my breath, because the next thing I knew, I was on my hands and knees, my face shoved in the pillow as he pounded into me again. My thighs were raw, and I was sure my insides were as well. I yelped as there was a sharp pain on my ass, and I became aware of how badly it was stinging. I cried out again as the sharp pain continued. 

“There’s my girl.” He said, lifting me by my hair so I was on my hands and knees. “I wanna hear you scream.” He said, giving a particularly hard thrust. 

I sobbed, trying to wiggle away, but I just got leather wrapped around my neck, pulling tightly in response. I raised one hand, finding them untied, but my wrists were nearly bleeding. I slipped it between the belt, and my neck, trying to find some way to get air into my lungs. I was nearly numb between my legs by the time he gave a final hard thrust before pulling away, turning me around before shoving his cock down my throat again, releasing into my mouth. I choked on his seed, some of it dripping out of my mouth. 

Rumlow released me and I sat there on my hands and knees, shaking. Tears and snot were running down my face as I felt something dripping between my thighs, running down the backs of my legs. I coughed as I tried to inhale deeply, my throat raw, mouth dry. Rumlow had collapsed backwards on my bed. He glanced over at me, smirking. 

“You look gorgeous like this.” He said, running his fingers over my sweaty face, brushing my hair from my forehead. “So wrecked. All innocence gone.” His fingers slid lower. “Do you want some water? You look a little parched.” He said, running his thumb over my chapped bottom lip. He groaned as he sat up, tucking himself back in his pants. “I think I may have busted a nut. You really had me going. Just wait until the guys here about this.” 

My face flushed at his words. I didn’t know why I was surprised. His team had probably seen the video already. Me getting ruined by the Asset. They had probably gotten off on it. I could see them, standing in a circle, all jerking off, watching me getting ruined. Of course he’d tell them about this. I felt shame rise up in me, tears starting to fall again. I was surprised I even had any left. Not after everything that had happened to me. But still, I found myself collapsing on the bed, gripping the sheets and sobbing out of shame, humiliation and pain. 


	12. Empty

My ass was welted and cut up. He’d used the buckle end of his belt, the metal slicing the skin. I wouldn’t be sitting anytime soon. The area between my legs was raw, like I had sandpaper shoved up there every time I moved. My sheets were stained with blood from where he’d torn me. My wrists were raw from tugging at the ropes, and the bruise on my jaw was only growing. There was another handprint on my neck, a trail of hickeys leading down my neck to my chest, as well as one by my bellybutton, and my scalp had bled in a few areas, staining my blonde hair around the roots. My lip was split a little. My eyes were dead as I looked at myself in the mirror. 

I could hear Rumlow shuffling around in my room, changing the sheets. I sighed, limping over to the shower to start the water. I suppressed a whimper as I stepped into the tub, moving a little too much. I let the warm water wash over me, cleaning all of the blood, sweat and semen from my skin. 

I winced as another body entered the shower, rough hands stilling mine as I scrubbed at my skin. With a gentleness I didn’t know he possessed, Rumlow washed my skin, cleaning the remains from what he’d done to me from my skin. He turned me around, tugging me into his chest. He was all hard muscle, several scars littering his skin. Knife wounds, bullet wounds. The body of a fighter. I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting him wash my back, whimpering slightly as his hands ran over my ass. He shushed me, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he rubbed the skin with his bare hands. 

I was stuck in a nightmare. The Asset was choking me with his metal hand, not letting up as Rumlow and his team stood around us, laughing. I jolted awake, breathing hard. Rumlow’s arms were still tight around me, his breaths even against my back. My body was already screaming, protesting every little move I made. My ass was burning, as well as my thighs, and everywhere else was achy. I felt nauseous, my stomach clenching as a sweat broke out on my skin. 

“Rumlow.” I whimpered and he shifted slightly. It was too hot. “Rumlow.” I whined, desperately trying to get out of his grip. 

He finally released me and I flew out of the bed, running with a limp, probably looking like a wounded deer, into the bathroom, making it to the toilet right as I vomited. I white-knuckled the toilet seat as my body shook, emptying everything in my stomach into the toilet. I groaned, clutching my head as I flushed my vomit, tears falling down my face. I steadied my breathing as much as I could, brushing my teeth before heading back to bed. Rumlow had rolled on his back, watching me in the light that came in through the window. I groaned, curling up on my side on top of the blankets, my back facing him. 

“Overdid yourself, huh.” He said, running his fingers down my back. 

I didn’t say anything as I laid there, willing myself back to sleep, preferring to be asleep, in my nightmares, than awake living one. 

Rumlow was thrusting into me when I woke up. My back was facing him, my leg thrown over his as he thrust lazily into me. One arm was wrapped around my chest, holding me down. I froze when I became aware of what was happening, Rumlow freezing with a groan as I clamped down around him. 

“Fuck.” He breathed. “I wondered how long it would take you to wake up.” He said, voice rough. He slipped a hand down to my folds, feeling around with his fingertips until my body jerked, my back arching as pleasure shot through me. I was mortified as a moan slipped through my lips. 

“Figured you should start enjoying this too.” He said as he started rubbing that spot as he thrust into me. 

It felt good. I was mortified as it felt good. I was nearly numb to his thrusts, but whatever he was doing on the outside, had my toes curling. And I hated it. My body shook, moans leaving my lips in time with his as his fingers, and his thrusts sped up. He leaned his nose against my neck, rubbing furiously as I cried out, warmth washing through me, my walls clamping around him, his hips jerking slightly. I gripped his hip as I trembled, intense pleasure washing through every fibre of my being. He pulled out of me, his hand leaving my folds to grip his length, his warm semen spurting out on my ass and thigh. I laid there, limp in his arms as his fingers dipped into my core, pulling back them back out, bringing them to his mouth. I stared ahead of me as he licked his fingers clean, another groan leaving him. 

“Sweet like I imagined.” I felt bile rising in my throat. He patted my thigh, lifting it off his hip before he released me, getting out of bed. “I have to go into work today.” He said, pulling on his boxers. “One of the boys is coming to watch you. Don’t have too much fun while I’m away.” I could hear the smirk in his voice. 

I didn’t move, laying there both his cum, and mine drying on my skin. My body was still trembling slightly. I felt disgusting. Mortified that I had just come like that. Right in his hands. He’d been brutally raping me just twelve hours ago, and now I was cumming in his hands just like that. I broke down crying, curling in on myself. My skin was crawling, a nauseous feeling filling me. I wanted to puke. I wanted to scream. I wanted to peel my skin off. I cried into my pillow, screaming until my throat was raw. I couldn’t bring myself to move, not even when the other guard arrived and saw me completely nude. I couldn’t bring myself to care though. I didn’t care if my dad walked in at that moment and saw me. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? To see me completely broken like that. He probably would have enjoyed it. 

I didn’t move until Rumlow came home at the end of the day, the guard that had replaced him having enough respect to close the door and wait in the living room. Rumlow rolled me on my back, fucking me into the mattress, making me bleed before he passed out next to me, his arm thrown over my waist, not caring that I was bleeding on the sheets, covered in his semen. I hadn’t eaten all day, and had very little to drink. I stayed still, staring emptily at the ceiling. I couldn’t feel anything anymore, and I was sure extensive damage had been done to my private area. I couldn’t even feel it when he tried to make me cum anymore. After this morning, there was nothing left. I was just an empty shell, a warm place with holes for him to fill for his own pleasure. There was nothing left of me. 


	13. Humiliation

“We’ve finally broken her, sir.” Rumlow said as he stood in Pierce’s office at SHIELD HQ. 

“Good.” Pierce said, facing the window overlooking the Potomac. “There’s one last step. Finish her with the Asset before he’s reset with his newest mission. Do it before next week when you leave on a mission with Captain America and Agent Romanoff.” 

“What are you going to do with her then?” 

“The scientists have come up with a solution for her current disabilities. She’s going to need a short time to recover. She’ll be ready by the time our plan is put in action.” 

Rumlow smirked, nodding to Pierce as he dismissed him, making his way down to the garage. He had a stop to make before visiting his favorite person. 

*****   
I lay curled up on the couch, numbly watching the news. I wasn’t really processing anything I was hearing. Something about a Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian, a robbery, a fire at a bakery. I was wrapped in a robe, clothes not exactly the most comfortable at the moment. My ass was still a mess of welts and cuts, my private parts throbbing, torn up and slightly swollen. My jaw was bruised, and there was a trail of hickeys down my body. My wrists were still slightly red from the rope, but they weren’t raw anymore. I prayed Rumlow wouldn’t come home tonight. That he’d give me at least one night to heal. That was all that was left for me to hope. Maybe he’d be called away on a trip. 

That hope went down the drain when he walked in the door, a smug look on his face. I didn’t move, half expecting him to just rip my robe off and fuck me on the couch. But he didn’t. He sat on the end, opposite my head, his eyes turning to the TV. I moved slightly, wincing at my body’s protest, staring at him. 

“What?” He asked, turning to stare at me. “I thought I’d give you a little break for a couple days. I’ve got somewhere special I’m taking you for the weekend.” 

I gulped, scared of what that entailed. But I got a couple days to heal. That was a plus. Though I was a little more concerned by the fact that he was no nonchalant about it. Like he hadn’t raped me constantly for the past couple days. He acted like everything was normal, and we were going for a little weekend getaway. It was unnerving. 

Sleeping alone that night was strange. I lay awake for hours, staring out the window. I guess I had gotten so accustomed to Rumlow sleeping with me, now that I was alone...it felt weird. It felt weird going to bed clean. Not bleeding and covered in semen. Not crying because I was in pain, torn apart by Rumlow’s merciless acts. 

I knew I would never be the same again. There was no going back to the headstrong, happy-go-lucky, too-curious-for-her-own-good, free-spirited Libby. There was no Libby anymore. She had died when she broke into her father’s office, and found out about HYDRA. When she had gone on the run, only to be dragged back and beaten...raped. All because they thought she needed to learn a lesson. Well, they were right. They had broken me. I was Olivia now. 

I wasn’t quite sure how long I’d been asleep for when Rumlow came in my room. He had a plate and a glass of water with him. 

“You were out cold. Didn’t even wake up when I brought breakfast in.” He said, putting the water down on my nightstand before handing me the plate. Mac & Cheese. I stared at it a moment before he sighed, putting it on the nightstand. “Eat. You’re getting too skinny. Or do you want me to help you again?” 

I sat up, taking the plate from my nightstand before forcing Mac & Cheese into my mouth. It felt wrong...disgusting. But I knew he wasn’t going to leave until I’d at least eaten half of the plate. So I did, shovelling it down to get it over with. 

The next day I was being dragged out of the house by Rumlow. There were two SUV’s outside the house, several armed guards surrounding them. 

“You see them? You try to run, or do anything funny, and you’re dead.” Rumlow growled in my ear. Like the guns didn’t spell that out well enough. 

We drove back into the city, towards the bank that was serving as their base. My heart was pounding in my throat. I had an idea what was going to happen. I was still sore, still achy from Rumlow, and this was only going to be worse. Rumlow dragged me from the car, taking me down into the depths of the bank. There were six of them, all tall, strong muscle in the room, leaning against the walls, making small talk, acting like this was normal. Rumlow spun me in the center of the room so I was facing him. 

“Strip.” He said, gaining the other men’s attention. 

“W-What?” I whispered, shaking slightly. 

“Strip. Or do you want me to do it for you?” The men all laughed. 

My face was burning, eyes filled with tears as I pulled my shirt over my head, my fingers shaking as I undid the button on my jeans, pulling them down, and kicking off my shoes. The floor was freezing under my feet, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I could feel all seven pairs of eyes on my body, scanning every inch. I was a poor piece of steak, in a room full of hungry dogs. 

“All of it.” Rumlow said, noticing my hesitation. 

I took a shaky breath in before reaching back, fumbling with my bra strap for a moment, before I got it undone. I let my bra slide down my arms slowly, sure every part of my body was red with humiliation now. There was a whistle as I let my underwear drop. 

“You really did a number on her, Rumlow.” The man behind me said. 

“Well,” Rumlow said, walking towards me. “I had to break her somehow.” His hand slapped my raw ass and I yelped, my head falling forward on his shoulder. 

“Please.” I whispered shakily. “Please, no.” 

Rumlow laughed. “I’m not the one you need to be begging.” 

He took a step back as I felt leather against my back. The inhumanly warm chest, body twice the size of mine. My legs were shaking, my breaths ragged as his flesh hand ghosted up my arm. I was suddenly falling forward, my knees hitting the concrete floor painfully, my hands getting scraped up. I was shaking, tears falling as I felt him kneel behind me. His hand was cold as it felt between my legs, forcing my knees apart. My body jerked as his metal finger brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves, my back arching slightly. 

“Glad to see that works again.” Rumlow said, making the others laugh. 

I hung my head, focusing on the crack running under me in the concrete. My body was still burning with embarrassment, and shame as I felt him behind me. Suddenly I was flipped on my back, and I just barely had time to lift my head before it banged on the concrete. I looked up, the Asset staring down at me, his eyes hard, face blank. He leaned down, laying himself over me as he pushed in, making me whine. I was still sore despite the break I’d had. I didn’t know if I’d ever be the same down there again at this pace. 

I tried not to look at him, the hair falling in his face, his features barely noticeable in the low light as he thrust into me, my back sliding on the concrete a little. I bit my lip so hard it bled a little, keeping my sobs in. His metal hand moved up to my jaw, pulling my lip from between my teeth. I let out a cry as he gave a particularly hard thrust, hitting a sore spot within me. 

I clawed at the concrete, feeling my nails chipping, but I didn’t care. I sniffed, my breath shaky as the groans of the other seven men in the room filled my ears. They were getting off on this, the sick bastards. I felt a few tears leave my eyes, and the Asset stilled, his flesh hand lifting up to catch one on his finger. I watched his face, ignoring how the other men got louder, most of them nearing the end. His eyes changed just a hair as he studied the wetness on his finger. We were still attached, his length pulsing inside me. But I was distracted by the way his eyes softened just the slightest. Pity? Or was it regret? Sympathy, maybe? There was an emotion there, but not enough to clearly see what it was. Maybe there was a man underneath the machine after all. 

He dropped his hand beside my head, his eyes snapping back to their emotionless state as he gave a few more thrusts, before he pulled out, standing to his feet, dragging me with him before he shoved his length in my mouth. He was hot, sticky, blood smeared across one side. He tasted slightly sour, coppery, my saliva washing that away as I choked around him, taking his cum down my throat. He was muskier than Rumlow, a tangy hint to him, where Rumlow was sour. 

I felt warm, sticky substances hit me from all sides as the Asset pulled me from his length. I hung my head in embarrassment and shame, falling forward onto my hands. I was glad my hair was long enough to cover my face, hide the tears that were falling. 

“Good job, Asset.” Rumlow said, and the other men left the room, left with the Asset, leaving me alone. 

I curled up on the cold concrete floor, covered in semen, my body still burning with embarrassment as hot tears ran down my face. There was no escaping this one. Not physically, or mentally. 


	14. Olivia

I wasn’t sure how long I laid there on the concrete. I was cold, the concrete offering no comfort. The semen covering my skin had long dried, making my skin feel tight, dry. I’d stopped crying a while ago, but my body had refused to stop shaking. I felt violated, humiliated, and the look in the Asset’s eyes...how it had changed just a fraction haunted me. The door slammed open, making me wince as it echoed around the room. 

“Get up. Get dressed.” A guard said, standing in the doorway. 

I shifted slightly, wincing at the pain ripping through me. Apparently I wasn’t moving fast enough because he marched over, yanking me to my feet. He pulled my shirt over my head, yanking my jeans on, and I had just barely enough time to slip my feet into my shoes before I was being yanked down the hallway. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, but got no reply. 

A blindfold was pulled over my eyes before I was shoved in a car and belted in. I wasn’t sure where we went, but we drove for quite a long time. I was nervous, my hands fiddling by my sides. At least they trusted me enough to keep the blindfold on. Maybe they were taking me out somewhere to kill me. Maybe they didn’t think I was broken enough, and they were tired of trying. 

The car rolled to a stop, three doors opening before mine was and I was tugged from the car. I was blindly led into a building, and down a long hallway that twisted and turned until I was stopped and lifted onto what felt like a hospital bed. The blindfold was pulled off my face and replaced by a gas mask, and I felt myself drifting off, unaware of the world around me. 

I woke up in a hospital bed, in a room with a window with bars on the door. The walls were grey and cold. No comfort here at all. I had an IV, and was attached to a heart monitor. But the thing that shocked me the most was how clear my vision was. I was no longer almost completely blind in my right eye. I would even go as far as to say my vision was better in my left eye as well. I wasn’t as sore as before, though they could have been giving me painkillers to help with that, and I didn’t quite feel like I had sandpaper shoved inside my private area. 

The door opened, and a man in a white coat came in. 

“Where am I? What happened to me?” 

He didn’t say anything as he checked my heart rate, writing something down on a clipboard before he grabbed a pen light, shining it into my eyes. He wrote something else down before he tilted the bed back, lifting the blanket off my lap. He pulled on a pair of gloves before reaching between my legs, feeling around. I bit my lip at the intrusion, trying to stay as relaxed as possible. I bit back a scream as he applied pressure to something inside me, my hands gripping the sheets under me. 

He withdrew his hand, writing something on the clipboard before turning and leaving. 

I wanted to call after him, but I knew there was no use. I wasn’t getting an answer. 

I sat there for about five minutes before the door opened again, a nurse coming in this time. She pulled on gloves before checking the IV, making sure everything was okay. 

“Are you going to talk to me?” I asked, but got nothing in reply. “I guess not.” I said, leaning back in the bed. 

“We’re not supposed to tell you anything. Under strict orders from your father.” She said, pulling a tube of liquid from her pocket. She pulled the blanket up, keeping it over my hips. “This may be a little cold.” She said, squeezing some of the gel on to her gloved hand. 

She reached down between my legs, rubbing the gel all over, including my thighs. It was cold, but it felt nice, tingly. 

“It’s going to be numb for a while.” She said, pulling the blankets back over my legs. “If anything hurts, use this button to call me.” She said, moving the clicker on to the side of the bed. 

She left without saying anything else, and I was alone in the room again. They didn’t even have a TV, books, nothing. So I resorted to staring at the ceiling, counting cracks in the concrete. It couldn’t be sterile. There was no sink in the room, nothing but my bed and the monitor. I knew it had to be crawling with guards, so there was no use trying to escape. Plus I didn’t even know if I could run, let alone walk very fast. 

I felt like a prisoner. They’d feed me, but it was all bland, stale food. I saw the nurse maybe three times a day, and the doctor once when he’d come in, check my vitals, before shoving his hand up my private area. I wasn’t entirely sure how long I was there for, the days seeming to blend together in boredom. I wanted to get up and take a walk, but I knew that would be stupid. If they thought I was trying to escape, it could mean a longer stay here. 

I didn’t see my father, or Rumlow for that matter, but I assumed they were busy. Pretending that nothing was wrong. They weren’t part of some secret Nazi organization. And that they had raped and beat an innocent girl multiple times. 

The door creaked open, and a guard entered with the nurse. The nurse unhooked the IV, making sure all the wires were off before the guard stepped forward, throwing clothes on the bed. 

“Get dressed.” Was all he said before he left the room with the nurse. 

I hoped this meant we were going home. I got dressed in the jeans and t-shirt, the guard coming in with a wheelchair. He pushed me down in it, tying a blindfold around my eyes before he pushed me from the room, making his way through the maze of hallways again before I was met with outside air. I was lifted into a car and strapped in, the guard getting in beside me before the car took off, driving away from wherever I’d spent the past couple days. 

We drove for a while before the guard pulled the blindfold off. I squinted, blinded slightly by the sun after being in a dark room for days. We were driving through the city, passing by the Lincoln Memorial. We drove for quite a while still, before we got off on a ramp, driving to a large building sitting on the edge of the Potomac. The guards got out, one of them giving me shoes before we walked to the building. 

I felt severely under dressed as we walked up to the secretary’s desk. 

“Olivia Pierce needs a visitor’s badge.” One guard said. “Her father’s expecting her.” 

“Of course.” The secretary said, typing something on the computer before handing a badge to one of the guards. He clipped it to my shirt before leading me to a glass elevator, taking us up a few dozen storeys. 

We walked out, the guards leading me to a door before one opened it, pushing me through. My father sat at a desk, a big wall of windows behind him. 

“What is this place?” I asked, stopping a few feet from his desk.

“Ah, Libby. So glad to see you up and walking again.” He said, getting up and walking towards me. “Look at you.” He cupped my face. “You look so much better, Libby.” 

“Olivia.” I said, keeping my gaze hard. “My name’s Olivia. Libby is dead. That’s what you wanted after all, isn’t it? Break me from my free will, taking away my individuality.” 

He smirked a little, running a hand over my hair. “You are a smart girl, Olivia. A hard headed, willful, free spirited child. And all we wanted was a little cooperation. And we knew we weren’t getting that unless we broke your willful spirit. Granted, it took a little more than I had hoped, but yet, here you are. A perfect model for the future.” 

“What future?” 

“Our future. The world’s future.” 

“You never answered my question. What is this place.” 

“This is SHIELD. Strategic Homeland Intervention and Enforcement Logistics Division. Mouthful, I know. They protect the innocent from threats, including the Invasion of New York. They were behind the Avengers.” 

“And you work for them.” I said, crossing my arms.” 

“I work for the World Security Council who oversees SHIELD.” 

“Great.” I said, blinking, trying to get used to seeing with both eyes again. “What the hell did you have done to me?” 

“I had you cleaned up. Fixed a few minor problems.” He walked back to his desk, pushing a button on the keyboard. “You have a few days to heal, so I want you to go home, sit back and relax.” The door to his office opened and my favorite person walked in. “Watch the world change from the outside.” 

Rumlow grabbed my arm, tugging me from the office. We walked out, passing a tall, blonde man in a blue and silver suit walking towards my father’s office. My eyes widened slightly as I quickly recognized who he was. I turned back slightly, looking at him and found him doing the same. His brow furrowed just slightly and I cured my over expressive eyes, surely showing desperation. Rumlow tugged my arm, making me turn back around. 

“Make sure she gets home.” Rumlow said to one of the guards before he turned back around, heading in a different direction. 

I turned back, before the elevator arrived, but Captain America had disappeared into my father’s office. My heart was still pounding after being in such close proximity with the icon, even if it was just in passing. I felt something rise up inside me, even if it was just a minuscule feeling at the look on his face when he’d seen me. Was it hope? Was that what I was feeling? Was I capable of feeling that again? Maybe I wasn’t as dead as I thought. 


	15. Uphill, Then Back Down

I spent another day at home. Rumlow was nowhere to be seen, not even stopping by to say ‘hi.’ It was a little unnerving, but I wasn’t complaining. It was better than getting raped over and over again. My father came home, but he shut himself in his office, and I didn’t see him again that night. Or in the morning before he left for work. There were still guards around the house, keeping me shut in, but otherwise things were going back to normal. Well, almost. 

I was still numb. I knew I wouldn’t ever be Libby again. Libby was gone, and it was my fault. If I hadn’t snooped, I wouldn’t have had to run, thus none of this would have happened, and I would still be innocent little Libby. The willful, free spirited child my father loathed. Not the broken, numb shadow my father had turned me into to teach me a lesson. 

Well, father, lesson learned. 

I had a nightmare that night, the Asset raping me until I couldn’t even distinguish the parts of my nether region. They were a bloody mess. I was a bloody mess, words carved into my skin. I couldn’t read them because they were in some foreign language...a cyrillic alphabet...Russian maybe. Ten words, all carved into my skin. I didn’t know what they meant, but they had some meaning to him. I was trapped under him, his steely cold eyes glaring down at me, the knife in his hand dripping my blood. He was speaking to me, but I couldn’t understand him. I couldn’t hear anything as he raised the knife, ready to plunge it into my chest. 

I shot up, gasping for breath, a layer of sweat covering my skin. It was still dark out, meaning it was early. I got out of bed, padding to the kitchen to get some water. I was still achy down under, but it wasn’t anything too bad. Not like it was before. Just a reminder of everything that had happened. 

I sat down at the counter, staring down into my water glass. I was still shaky from my nightmare, not quite understanding what it meant. But I knew it wasn’t good. If only I knew what the words meant. Maybe that would give me a clue...but I didn’t know Russian, and I wasn’t sure if I could remember all of them well enough to look. But I figured I’d give it a shot anyways, grabbing a piece of paper to try and write them out. 

It was light outside by the time I finished, just barely having time to hide it before my dad came out for breakfast. We shared a few words before he left to get ready for work. I knew things wouldn’t be the same around him. Not after what he’d done to me. What he’d let happen to me. I went to my room to shower, getting myself cleaned up to sit around and do nothing all day. I’d already read everything I owned, every magazine, every book. There was nothing new on Netflix for me to watch. TV had lost all its appeal. I was really starting to feel like a prisoner. Maybe I could talk one of the guards into taking me to the library or something. Because if this went on, I was going to die of boredom. 

Surprisingly the guard agreed. I guessed he was getting bored as well. I spent a few hours at the library, getting books, flipping through magazines. I even went online to look up the words. I only made sense of a few of them, but that didn’t help me much. They seemed like nonsense to me. Just random words. Maybe it was some kind of hidden message. I didn’t stress too much about it. It came from a dream. It couldn’t have that much meaning. 

I grabbed my books and my paper full of nonsense before heading back out to the car with the guard. He’d thankfully lost the fatigues and weapons. Though he was probably packing in case I decided to run. Or someone got a little too close. Thank god none of that happened. 

It was dark by the time we got home. I’d coerced the guard into letting me get food from a restaurant to take home, after having basically the same few things to eat for a few weeks. I was going insane. Luckily he said yes, and took me through the drive-thru at McDonald’s. I’d never been so happy to have greasy fake food in my entire life. 

My dad was home when I got back. I could hear him on the phone in his room as I passed it. I went to my room, putting my bag of McDonald’s down on my nightstand before changing clothes. I ate my greasy hamburger and fries, enjoying a movie I’d only seen fifty times before. 

After I finished, I went to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but found myself stopping at the end of the hallway as I saw Renata there. I thought she’d gone home. I heard my dad’s voice for a moment before suddenly a shot was ringing out, and then a second. I covered my mouth, holding in my scream as Renata fell backwards, two bullet holes in her chest. I backed up, sliding around the corner. My breaths were coming in gasps, my heart pounding as tears fell down my face. What kind of...Who would...Why...I couldn’t even think as I ran back to my room, closing the door before sliding down to the floor. I couldn’t wrap my head around what had just happened. I knew my father was an asshole, but to do something like that? To someone who was innocent? I mean, I was kind of being a hypocrite, but I wasn’t exactly innocent. But...why? Unless she’d walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t go into the kitchen myself. Would he have shot me? What was going on in there? Why was it so important that he killed an innocent woman that just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Would he have killed me if I had walked into the kitchen? Maybe I should have. Then I would have just been dead Olivia, instead of numb Olivia. 

My head was hurting from everything. My brain was in overdrive and I was starting to get dizzy. I crawled over to my bed, brushing the wrappers and McDonald’s bag off my bed before curling up on the comforter. Renata had been so wonderful to me, to my dad. She’d done nothing but take care of us, and he’d just murdered her in cold blood. It made me a little afraid. Would he come for me next? Was that what my future held? Being murdered by my own father? I didn’t sleep that night, terrified that every creak, every bump was my father coming to finish me off as well. 


	16. Nightmares Revisited

Two days later I found myself sitting on the couch, watching the news on the edge of my seat. Three helicarriers had risen from the Potomac and were currently blowing each other out of the sky. One of them had crashed into SHIELD’s HQ, now known to the public, as all of their files, as well as HYDRA’s had been dumped onto the internet. The guards had yet to move outside, probably awaiting instruction to shoot me down. 

A part of me hoped both Rumlow and my dad were in the building when it went down. I wanted them to die a slow, painful death, being crushed by thousands of pounds of rubble. And if they survived that, I wanted them to suffocate slowly and die before anyone found them. I was literally shaking from adrenaline and anger. I wanted everyone who had made me suffer to die a slow, painful death. They deserved it. 

I couldn’t sleep that night. I sat awake, continually watching the news. The stories were pouring in, SHIELD and HYDRA the headliners. I had gotten up to get something to drink from the kitchen when I heard a few thuds outside, as well as a grunt. I grabbed a kitchen knife, holding it close as I watched all the windows, waiting for something to move. So many things were flying through my head. What if Rumlow had survived, and now he was back to kill me? What if someone found out about my dad and was here to take me out, thinking I’m with HYDRA? There were so many possibilities, so many people it could be. 

I moved from the kitchen towards the front door. I could see in the lights that bordered our walkway the bodies of the guards laying on the ground. I inhaled sharply, not knowing if they were dead. They looked dead, but it was dark outside, and there was only so much light. 

In my distraction I didn’t notice the person coming up behind me. Well, I probably wouldn’t have anyways, as he was deathly silent. I saw his reflection in the glass just seconds before his metal hand covered my mouth, cutting off my scream. I struggled against him, my grip on the knife, tightening as I turned it to try and stab him blindly. His other hand gripped my wrist, a grunt leaving him as he caught it, bending my wrist back until I dropped the knife in pain. I fought him still, trying to kick, hit, anything. My adrenaline was pumping. Was he here to kill me? Was he going to rape me again? Was he going to do both? Get his fix, then murder me? 

He finally caught my right arm, bending it behind my back to he could get closer to me.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said in my ear. 

It was the first time I had ever heard him speak more than one word. His voice was different. There was no accent there like there was before. It was rough, like it hadn’t been used in a long time. But yet, there was a softness to it. I almost wanted to believe him. 

I grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm down and he cried out, loosening his hold. I slipped from his grasp, bolting to my bedroom. I could hear him following me. I slammed my bedroom door shut, running to my bathroom before shutting and locking the door, right as his body slammed into it. I backed up, my back hitting the shower behind me. I was terrified, tears rolling down my cheeks. This could be the end of me. 

His metal hand ripped the door handle off, like I’d seen him do before and the door swung open. He stood there, all tall, broad muscle, blocking the only exit I had. My breathing picked up, nothing more than shaky gasps as he took a step forward. 

“Don’t...” I said, holding out my hand. “Don’t come near me!” I willed my voice to stop shaking. 

But it wouldn’t. As I pleaded to him to stay where he was, not to touch me, tears rolling down my face, my breathing was nothing more than sobs. This was a man who beat me. Who had nearly ripped my arm off, gave me a concussion, nearly blinded me in one eye, stuffed me in a trunk of a car and drove halfway across the country. He’d murdered an innocent police officer in front of me. He’d raped me. Not once, but twice. I’d had nightmares about him. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said slowly, holding up his left hand, his fist clenched around a knife. 

I flinched, ready for him to pounce, feel the knife tear into my skin. I sunk down to the bathroom floor, holding myself so that maybe his attack would miss. But he didn’t look like the kind of person to miss. I flinched again as he slid the knife across the bathroom counter, the clang as it fell into the sink loud in my ears. He raised his left arm into the air, giving me half a sign of surrender. His right arm was held tight across his stomach, and there were cuts on his face. 

“We need to leave.” He said, turning and walking to my bedroom. 

I was confused. Very confused. I wiped the tears from my face, getting up slowly, grabbing the knife from the sink, holding it tightly in my hand. I didn’t know what to do with it, but at least it made me feel better. I moved to the doorway, watching as he threw clothes into my black backpack. The one I’d had with me when he’d kidnapped me. 

“Get shoes on.” He said, zipping my backpack. “Meet me outside.” He went to leave my room, but I stopped him. 

“No.” I straightened up a little. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I said, pointing the knife at him. I tried to still my trembling hand as he turned to face me. “Why should I trust you? Do you even know what you did to me?” I shouted the last part. 

“We don’t have time for this.” He said, walking towards me. 

I swung the knife at him, but he dodged it, twisting my arm behind my back again before his left hand covered my face, plugging my nose and covering my mouth. My eyes went wide as I tried to breathe, but couldn’t. My ears were popping as I slowly lost consciousness, his arms releasing me right as I went under, my body falling to the floor. 

****

He stared down at her crumpled form for a moment. He didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t have any other choice. He’d had a long day, and he knew HYDRA was after him. He’d let two people live, tired of killing. He didn’t know who he was exactly, he had a name, or at least part of one. But he knew HYDRA would be looking for him, so he had to go underground. He’d been halfway there when he’d remembered her. The blonde girl he’d beat up and shoved in a trunk. The girl he’d...he’d been forced to...twice...He knew HYDRA wasn’t about to let her go either. They’d kill her. And he couldn’t let that happen. 

He’d gone to her home, taking out the guards easily. But she’d been awake, something he hadn’t counted on. He’d snuck up behind her, disarming her easily. She hadn’t been much of a fight, but he was injured, and she’d unknowingly used that against him. She’d run, but he was on her tail. He’d tried telling her he wasn’t going to hurt her, but she hadn’t listened. But when he saw her in the bathroom, tears falling down her face, sobbing in fear, something inside him snapped. He remembered when he’d first brought her back. She’d grown on him, something he wasn’t supposed to let happen. And when his handler had grabbed her arm, the one he’d hurt, he couldn’t help himself. He’d protected her. Or he’d tried to. 

But then they’d wiped him. Things were blurry after that. He remembered being in this room. Being forced on her as she tried to escape him. She was crying. He’d let her bite his knuckles, to try to ease the pain. He couldn’t remember why, though. Then he’d been on her a second time. He’d seen her cry, the tears falling from her eyes in humiliation. He’d forced himself to finish, wanting it to be over as fast as possible for her. But then they’d taken him away, wiped him again. But he remembered now. He remembered what he’d been forced to do. What he’d done to her. His handler had told him to break her, and he had. 

She was pleading with him, scared of him. He’d lifted his hand in surrender, and he’d watched her sink to the floor in a defensive pose. She was protecting herself for when he tried to kill her. But he’d put the knife down, sliding it to the sink. He hadn’t missed her flinch when it rattled against the porcelain. 

He’d remembered why he’d come then, telling her why, before packing a bag for her. He heard her get up, grab the knife and move to the door. She’d watched him carefully as he finished packing her things. 

He’d told her to put shoes on, but she’d resisted him. She was still scared, but he didn’t have time for this. HYDRA was on his trail, and he didn’t want her to be hurt anymore. So he’d have to result to some extreme measures. She’d tried to fight him, but she was shaking too much. He’d have to teach her how to defend herself later. But for now, he needed to get away. Go underground for a few days with her. He’d cut off her breathing, waiting until she was limp before letting her go. 

She dropped to the floor in a heap, unconscious, but breathing. He winced as he grabbed her backpack, slinging it over his injured shoulder, grabbing the shoes that were outside her closet door before slinging her over his shoulder with his metal arm. He packed her out of the house to one of the car’s parked on the street. The guards were still unconscious, but they wouldn't be for much longer. 

He laid her out across the back seat, buckling her in as best he could before climbing in the driver's seat, using the keys he’d pulled off one of the guards to start the car, driving away from the house, and towards the city. 


	17. You're Bucky Barnes

I groaned as I came back to consciousness. I was on a bed, the smell of clean linen filling my nose. There were blankets pulled up around me, and for a moment I thought I was safe at home, in bed. But I was quickly reminded that wasn’t the case. Everything that happened flashed through my mind again. The Asset had come for me, and kidnapped me. Again. My eyes snapped open and I found myself in bed, staring at a wall. The room was dark, all except for a lamp on behind me, casting shadows over the wall. I did a quick check, finding I was still in my clothes, and nothing hurt. So he hadn’t raped me while I was out. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to. 

I turned around slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, but he was sitting at the table by the window, staring at me. He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, his hair was frizzy, and there was still blood on his face. I swallowed nervously as we stared at each other, his eyes were hard, but there was something behind them that I’d never seen before. Something human. 

He shifted slightly, reaching across the table with his metal arm, snatching something up from the barrage of weapons that were littering the table before he tossed it to me. I flinched ducking down, like the blankets would protect me, until I heard the slosh of water as the bottle hit my bed. I lowered the blanket, staring at the water bottle for a moment before looking back to him. His head was turned and he was staring out the crack in the blinds. I sat up, my eyes never leaving him. I was still waiting for him to pounce, to shove me down and take me again and again, like what Rumlow had done. Like what he’d done before. But he didn’t move. 

I grabbed the water bottle, inspecting it. I had expected it to be drugged, but I was reassured when the cap popped as I opened it, signalling it hadn’t been opened yet. I took a long drink, surprised at how thirsty I really was. I drank half the bottle before putting the cap back on, setting it on the nightstand. 

“What’s your name?” I asked him after a moment. I couldn’t keep calling him the Asset. He had to have a name, or at least something else I could call him. 

“I don’t know.” He said, not moving his gaze from the window, but his body still sat facing me. There was a rather large rifle across his lap, maybe a security blanket for him, or something. 

“You don’t know your name?” I asked, swallowing my nerves. What was going on here? Had HYDRA really tortured him that much? Taken away everything, even his name? 

He didn’t say anything, just kept staring out the window. Every car door slam had him pulling the curtains back slightly. I watched him, a little fascinated, and a little scared. 

I leaned back against the headboard, studying the room. It wasn’t bad, I’d certainly seen worse. Cheap, though I didn’t quite know what kind of salary HYDRA operatives made. If he made one. There was a single bed, the one I was laying in, a table in chairs by the window, which he had taken over. And I assumed the bathroom was behind the wall to my right, by the door. 

“Where are we?” I asked, looking back to him. 

“Still in D.C.” He said, turning to look at me before his gaze was torn to the door when pounding footsteps came down the hallway. He was on his feet in a flash, going to the door to watch out the peephole, not satisfied until the footsteps were gone. “We’re safe, for tonight. But we’ll have to move again tomorrow.” 

“Why are you doing this?” I asked him as he sat back in his chair, looking back out the window.

“I know what I did to you.” He said. “I remember it. HYDRA won’t stop looking for me. If I had left you there, they would have come and killed you. Finish off what your father had planned.” 

“He’s dead, isn’t he.” I said. It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” He turned back to look at me. 

“Good.” I said, before laying back down, facing away from him. If he was going to attack me, then at least I wouldn't have to watch him do it. 

I woke up a few hours later when his flesh hand covered my mouth. This was it, this was how it was going to happen. I screamed, fighting against his hand until he lifted his metal finger, putting it to his lips. I quieted down, still breathing hard as he removed his hand, turning away from me. 

“You were screaming in your sleep.” He said as he unzipped his duffle bag, putting the weapons back inside. 

I was having a nightmare. Rumlow was back and he’d found us. He was torturing the Asset, making me watch before turning on me, raping me in front of him. The Asset was screaming, yelling curses at Rumlow, but he couldn’t move. I pleaded with him, trying to reach him, but I couldn’t. 

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. It was five in the morning, the sky just starting to lighten. The Asset’s hair was wet, and he’d changed into jeans and a t-shirt. 

“If you want to shower, do it now. I don’t know when we’ll have a chance again.” He said not turning around as he packed his weapons away. 

I slid out of bed, grabbing my backpack before heading to the bathroom. I locked the door, having to take a moment to reassure myself he wasn’t going to come barging through, before I stripped, starting the shower. 

I didn’t take long, not wanting to keep him waiting, afraid he’d come in and start trying to help me. I toweled myself off, grabbing clothes from my backpack, glad he’d at least grabbed me underwear when he’d packed last night. I was fishing through the clothes when I saw a piece of paper at the bottom of my backpack. Then I remembered the dream I’d had. The words that had been carved on my skin. I’d stuck it in there so no one else would see. I shoved it back down, grabbing clothes quickly before leaving the bathroom. 

The Asset was waiting for me, pulling on a pair of boots. I towel dried my hair, pulling it into a braid before pulling on my shoes, shoving my dirty clothes into my backpack. The Asset pulled on a cargo jacket, and I didn’t miss the wince when he moved his right shoulder. The cuts on his face were all but gone, but his shoulder was still bothering him. 

*******

“You’re injured.” I said as we drove away from the hotel in a stolen car. He was still holding his right arm stiffly, his left on the steering wheel. 

He didn’t say anything, just kept driving, heading wherever we were going. He wouldn’t tell me that either. I sighed, leaning back in my seat. He wouldn’t tell me anything, besides the fact HYDRA was going to kill me if I didn’t run. And apparently I had to run with him. I mean, it was reassuring, having someone I knew could protect me, but at the same time...I’d been through so much...I’d seen what he could do. Felt it. I was still jumpy, scared that he was going to snap and try to hurt me. He made sure not to move too fast around me, something I was grateful for. 

I leaned my head against the window as he pulled into the Smithsonian. 

“What are we going here?” I asked, but he just opened his door, telling me to wait while he got out of the car. I watched him in the side mirror as he scanned the area before opening my door, pulling me out. He was gentle about it this time, not nearly ripping my arm off. Though I still shied away from his touch. 

He reached into the back of the car, unzipping his bag before pulling a hoodie out, draping it around me. I put my arms through the sleeves as he zipped it up, reaching in to grab a cargo jacket and a hat, pulling them on. He slipped a beanie over my hair before starting to walk towards the building. The museum was already packed, filled with tourists. 

“Seriously, what are we doing here?” I asked, almost having to run to keep up with his long strides. 

“Looking for something.” Was all I got. 

He wrapped his arm around me, and I couldn’t help the flinch at the touch. I kept my body a few inches away from his, but he didn’t seem to notice as we slipped through the crowd. I was sweating, nervous as we approached the Captain America exhibit. I was confused, watching him as we walked around, an unreadable expression on his face. 

It wasn’t until we got to one specific exhibit that I realized what we were doing there. 

“Bucky Barnes.” I whispered, not missing the way he tensed. I frowned, looking from the picture to him, then back again. “Oh shit.” I breathed, looking back up at his face as he stared at the memorial for the fallen soldier. “You...you’re.” I looked back and forth between the picture and him a few dozen times, not quite able to process what I was seeing. “Holy shit.” Was all I could say. “You’re Bucky Barnes.” 


	18. James

"How do you know me?" He asked as he dragged me back to the car by my elbow, his metal hand gripping tight.

"Everyone knows you. You were...are Captain America's best friend. We learned about you in history class. You were MIA. You fell-"

"From a train." He said, stopping and staring at his reflection in the car window.

"How much do you remember?"

"Not a lot. Just...glimpses." He had a faraway look in his eye.

I took a step back, as far as he'd let me anyways, giving him a moment. I turned to scan the parking lot and my eyes landed on two men leaning against a black SUV. Their eyes were trained on us, their faces emotionless. I reached back, gripping the sleeve of Bucky's jacket tightly.

"What?" He asked, noticing that something was wrong. He looked in the same direction that I was, his body stiffening when he saw the two men. "Keep your head down." He said, pushing me towards the passenger side door. "Get in the car."

He moved around to the driver's side as I got in, starting the engine before tearing away from the parking lot. He kept one eye on our rear as I gripped the seat tightly.

"They're HYDRA, aren't they?" I asked as he swerved through traffic.

"Yes. And they're following us." He reached across me, buckling my seatbelt.

He turned on a red, nearly getting us killed crossing the intersection. I was doing deep breathing, trying to keep myself calm as he drove like a maniac. He threw his right arm across my chest as he flew around a corner, the tires skidding. Where were the hell were the police? Why weren't they on us instantly? He kept his arm across my chest as he sped out of the city, heading south.

"Where are we going?" I asked, twitching slightly under his arm, which still hadn't moved.

"Outside the city." No shit.

I sat silently, stiff as a board as he drove down the freeway for a solid hour. I was starving, not having eaten since breakfast at the hotel. His arm was still over my chest, holding me against the seat. I tried to control my breathing, slightly nervous at the proximity. How easy it would be for him to kill me right there. How easy it would be to touch me. I closed my eyes, leaning back in my seat, trying to relax.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew a car door was being slammed shut. I blinked, rubbing my eyes. We were outside a gas station, Bucky having disappeared. I swallowed nervously, trying not to think about the last time I was at a gas station. But things were different now. At least I wasn't puking all over myself this time. And I wasn't injured yet.

Bucky came back a few minutes later, plastic bag in hand. He opened the passenger door, telling me to get out. I did as he said, slightly confused. He grabbed my backpack, shoving it into my arms before grabbing his duffle.

"What are we doing?" I asked, following him as he walked away from the gas station.

"We're walking." Was all he said.

We walked in silence for a few minutes before I finally broke it, not standing having questions burning holes in my head.

"What do you want me to call you?" I asked him.

He stopped, turning to face me. "What?"

"What do you want me to call you? Obviously I'm not going to call you the Asset. Do you want Bucky, or-"

"James." He said, starting to walk again.

"Okay. It's nice to meet you, James. I'm Olivia."

"I know." He said, stopping for a moment to wait for a car to pass, turning back to me. "My...handler told me."

"Rumlow." I said his name like a curse. "Is he dead too?" I asked, following him across the street.

"I...don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I couldn't find him."

"Great. So the asshole that raped me repeatedly for a week and a half could be out there still. That's just freaking fantastic."

I nearly ran into James' back as he stopped suddenly. "I won't let him touch you. I won't touch you. No one's going to touch you, as long as you stay with me." He said, looking at me over his shoulder. "You can leave. Escape on your own, but they'll find you eventually."

"Then what's your plan? How are you getting away from them?"

I was met with silence as he kept walking.

"How come you don't want to find Steve?" I asked after a moment.

James didn't answer as he stopped walking. He stood there for a moment, staring ahead.

"I mean, it would be the most logical. He could help you. You could get some of your memories back."

He didn't answer me, just started walking again, the scenery around us changing before we were standing on a pier. I quickly forgot what I was saying, staring up at the sight in front of me. Oh no. This was not happening.

"We need to leave the country." James said, walking down the pier.

"By cargo ship?"

"It's the least conspicuous way. It's been a long time since I've been on a plane, but I highly doubt we'd get very far."

"I don't think you could get in the airport." I said, eyeing his metal arm. "Much less through security."

"Just stay close to me, and keep your head down." He said, tugging my hood over my beanie.

I followed him down to the cargo ship where some crew were loading containers on board. James walked right up to one of the crew, speaking to him in a different language. I stayed slightly behind him, keeping my eyes on the pier. They conversed back and forth until they shook hands, James leading me towards the rope ladder attached to the side. I stared up to the top, feeling a million times smaller than I actually was.

"I'm right behind you." James whispered in my ear before nudging me forward.

I took it one step at a time, not looking at anything but the rope right in front of my face. I was shaking my the time I got to the top, nearly throwing myself to the deck, getting a few looks from the crew. James hopped on deck beside me before leading me towards the back of the ship where a small door was. James pulled it open, nodding for me to go first.

It was small, but not nearly as bad as I'd imagined. A twin sized bed was against one wall, a small table and a chair against the other. There was a second door which had a shower inside it. James closed the door behind him, locking it. I felt slightly claustrophobic then, being locked in such a small room with him.

"Crew said sixteen days to Italy." He said, putting his bag down on the chair.

"Where are we going from there?" I asked, sitting down on the bed, hugging my backpack to my chest. The mattress was thin, but still slightly comforting.

"A safe house in Romania."


	19. Never Tickle A Sleeping Assassin

“Here.” James said, tossing the plastic bag from the gas station at me. 

I caught it, looking inside. There was a bottle of water, a bag of chips and a candy bar inside. “What about you?” I asked, looking up at him. “You need to eat. And sleep.” 

“I’m fine.” He said, digging through his duffel. 

“No. You need to eat. And sleep.” 

“I’ll eat with the crew.” He said, sighing at me. “You stay up here.” He handed me a knife, the same one he’d had when he’d kidnapped me a second time almost two days ago. “Stab anyone who comes through that door that’s not me.” He said, walking to the door. “Especially if it’s me.” 

I thought about his words as I stared down at the knife. Why was he doing this? Why had he so willingly dragged me along? He had to know I was scared of him. Who in their right mind wasn’t? And then finding out he was actually Captain America’s best friend who was supposed to be dead, or ninety years old now was just the icing on the cake. 

I ate my chips and candy bar slowly, trying to avoid getting seasick. It wasn’t too bad, just needed some getting used to. I curled up on the bed not long after, tucking my arm under my head to accommodate for the thin pillow. The blanket wasn’t much use against the cold as the sky got darker. James still wasn’t back yet, and I had the knife gripped tightly in my hand. This was going to be a long two weeks. 

****

Bucky was surprised to see her asleep when he got back into the room. She was out, curled up on the far side of the bed against the wall. He moved his bag, taking a seat in the chair across from her. He studied her for a moment, or at least what he could see of her. He didn’t know why he’d saved her. Why he remembered her so well, when everything else was just a blur, or nonexistent. Maybe it was because he was tired of killing, and he wanted someone to save instead. And she had been right there in his mind. The girl he’d been forced upon twice, who was terrified of him still. And the worst part was she didn’t even bother to hide it. 

He kept the light off in the room, afraid he’d wake her up if he turned it on. She needed to sleep. She’d had a long couple of days, no thanks to him. But yet, when he’d given her the option to leave, run away herself, she hadn’t taken it. She’d still followed him. Maybe she was warming up to him afterall. Realizing he meant it when he said he wouldn’t touch her, or hurt her. He’d done enough of that. Maybe he needed to prove to himself that he was human. He wasn’t a monster. 

It was a few hours into the night, and he’d been lost in his thoughts, trying to remember things, when he’d heard her shaky inhale. He was on his feet in a second, moving over to the bed, ready to quiet her if she started screaming again. But when he got closer he saw she was shivering. He pulled his jacket off, pulling the blanket down just low enough that he could wrap the jacket around her, before tucking the blanket back where it was. He watched her as she curled up, tugging the jacket tighter around her. A small smile graced his face for a second before it fell, and he returned to his chair. 

He managed to stay awake until the early hours of the morning, when he found himself drifting off in the chair, into his own nightmares. 

*******

I woke up warm and surprisingly well rested. I was a little stiff, but that couldn’t be helped. I sat up, the warmth that had surrounded me, falling off, and then I noticed James’ jacket. He must have put it there last night. I looked across the small room, noticing he was asleep in the chair. He was going to have a sore neck if he kept that up, so I got out of the bed, approaching him. His face was pinched in a frown, but I didn’t think about it as I put my hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. 

“James?” I whispered, trying to wake him up. 

Suddenly his hand had grabbed my wrist, his metal hand wrapping around my throat. He was on his feet, my back hitting the wall of the cabin painfully. 

“James.” I gasped out, trying to get through his emotionless face as dots danced in my vision. “James...” I whimpered and he seemed to come back to himself, his hand letting go of me so fast I fell to the floor with a small bang. 

I coughed, trying to get air back in my lungs as he backed away from me, staring down at his hands. I stood up slowly, his jacket still wrapped around me as I inched towards the door. He looked up at me, hurt shining in his eyes. I spun around, throwing open the cabin door before slipping out. It was cold on deck, a thin layer of fog settled around us. I coughed, still trying to get air moving in my lungs smoothly. I was going to have a bruise again. I wrapped his jacket tighter around me, lifting the collar so hopefully none of the crew would notice. 

I made my way down the stairs, careful not to slip on the thin layer of condensation that had formed on the deck. I walked to the edge of the ship, leaning against the railing, looking down at the grey water flowing beneath the ship. 

“The man you travel with, is he your lover?” 

The question took me by surprise, not expecting anyone to be behind me. I spun around so fast I almost slipped. 

“What? No...no.” I shook my head at the crew member. He was short, not much taller than me with a round belly and a slight beard. Everything you would expect a sailor to look like. “I...I ran away. And he helped me.” I said, looking back at the water. 

“Family trouble?” He asked, his accent thick, but he spoke English well. 

“You have no idea.” I said, shaking my head. “My father was a horrible person.” I said, wrapping my arms around myself, my hands hidden by James’ jacket sleeves. 

“I have a daughter. She’ll be ten in two weeks. And a son who just turned eight. I couldn't imagine laying a hand on them, and it makes me sick to think a parent could do that to their child. You don’t have to be wary of us. Most of us are married, have children. You and your friend are welcome here,  _ Passerotta. _ ” 

He left me alone on the deck, going back to work. I felt more welcome than I had in a long time on board the ship. I just had to figure out how I was going to go back into the cabin without alerting James too much. Because obviously, he didn’t like being woken up. 

 


	20. Feelings

Bucky stared down at his hands as Olivia left, closing the door behind her, the terrified look back in her eyes. He had been so sure. So sure he was awake, the doctors surrounding him, ready to wipe him again. He hadn’t thought when she touched him...he broke his promise. He had hurt her again. He had ruined all the progress they’d made. And now she was out there with the crew. They weren’t bad people. Just working, getting from one place to the next. But he would have felt better if she were with him. Where he could ensure she really was safe. He didn’t understand the feeling he got when he thought about her possibly being in danger. It made him sick, nervous, like he wanted to tear the ship apart looking for her. But she wouldn’t come now. He’d messed things up again. 

He sank down on the bed, the mattress still warm from where she’d been laying. He laid down, kicking off his boots before curling up on the mattress. He hadn’t been on a bed for a long time. So long he forgot what it felt like. The soft, plush material under his side. The pillow under his head unusual. It smelled like her. She smelled nice, he thought. The blanket was thin, but it was soft, and it felt nice. He felt safe, laying there. Something he forgot he could feel. He was a predator. A killer. He didn’t have to feel safe because he never felt threatened. He could take care of himself if he had to. 

HYDRA had made him forget what fear was. He may have felt it before they wiped him, but he never remembered it after. He never remembered anything after. They’d turned him into something horrible. Taken away his identity, and shoved someone else in his skin. He wasn’t Bucky anymore. When the man on the bridge...Steve...had called him that, it had awoken something in him. Something he didn’t remember feeling. It had compromised the mission, and so he’d left. And HYDRA had taken it away from him again. He’d started to remember. Falling, cold, waking up different. With a metal arm. Alive. They’d frozen him, over and over again. He was stronger than he remembered. Everything was in pieces, and he just wanted to remember. 

Steve had called him a friend. His best friend. And Bucky had saved him. He didn’t know why, but he had done it. And then he’d saved Olivia. Maybe it had been a mistake. Maybe he should have told her to run. She was scared of him, more so now than she was before. But they would have found her. They would have killed her. Slowly. Painfully. Torturing her, because of him. And he couldn’t let that happen. He had to keep her safe. He had to take care of her.

But he didn’t quite understand why. 

******

Bucky woke up when the door to the room slammed shut. He heard Olivia curse lightly, wincing as it echoed around the room for a moment. Bucky laid still, not wanting to scare her by moving too fast. Or moving at all. He wasn’t sure what time it was, or how long he’d been asleep for. He stilled his breathing as she approached the bed, a bowl of something in her hand. It was steaming, and smelled good, but he didn’t move. She sat it on the table, turning around to move to the chair. 

She tucked her legs under her as she sat, watching him. He could feel her eyes on him, curious. He finally sat up when he decided she wasn’t going to run when he moved. 

“The crew gave me some to bring to you. You were asleep for most of the day.” She said, watching as he grabbed the bowl, inspecting the contents. “I think it’s supposed to be chili.” She said, flipping on the light, both of them squinting at the intrusion. “Or something like that. I’m not sure what they called it. Some of them don’t speak English.” 

So she had been with the crew. She seemed more relaxed now, but there was still an edge to her, the way her eyes darted back to him every few seconds. Watching his every move, waiting for him to attack. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice rough from sleep. “I didn’t-” 

“It was my fault.” She said, interrupting him. “I shouldn’t have just grabbed you like that. You looked like you were having a nightmare, but I didn’t want you to have a stiff neck when you woke up. I should have thought it through a little better.” She shrugged, looking to the floor. 

“I shouldn’t have attacked you.” He said before spooning some chili into his mouth. It was a little bland, but it was real food. Something he hadn’t had in a long time either. 

“It was your instinct. It still is.” She said, looking back up at him. “You can’t help it. You spent god knows how long living like that. I’m not going to blame you for doing something you can’t help.” 

He felt something swell in his chest. It was odd, made him feel strange. He frowned, looking down at the chili. He was starting to feel again, but he didn’t have a name to put to what it was. He knew he’d felt it before. A long time ago. A very long time ago, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was now. All of these emotions were so strange to him. All of these feelings coming on at once. It was confusing. 

“Are you okay?” He jumped slightly when he spoke, making her jump as well. No one had asked him that in a long time. “Do you want something else to eat? No one’s going to make you eat, I mean you should, but I’m not your mother, so I can’t tell you what to do. You’re older than me so you should be the one in charge-” 

“You sure talk a lot, don’t you?” He asked, a smile coming to his face. 

“Sorry.” She said, blushing, pulling her knees to her chest. “Nervous habit.” She chewed on her lip, avoiding his gaze. “If I ever annoy you, just tell me to shut up. I know I ask a lot of questions but I’m a curious child. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.” 

“What did you do, anyways?” He asked before taking another bite of chili. “What made your father send me after you?” 

“I, uh, broke into his office because I was curious because he never told me what he did and I wanted to know. I may have found out about HYDRA and seen the plans for Project Insight. The helicarriers. But I didn’t read anything. All I saw was the name, and the helicarriers. I ran away because I knew HYDRA was an ex-Nazi organization and I was scared. So I ran. And my dad thought I was going to sell information and reveal their plan before it got started. So he sent you after me to bring me home.” 

Guilt filled him at her words. If he would have known any better. If he would have known what was waiting for her when she returned...he wouldn’t have brought her back. He would have let her run. But he didn’t know better. He was still a machine, getting told what to do, and obeying those commands. Completing his missions without question. 

“You don’t have to feel guilty.” She said, making him look up at her in surprise. “You didn’t know any better. Hell, I thought you were a robot when I found out you had a metal arm. A cyborg or something. There was no way someone human could move like that. But you are human. You were just buried.” She shrugged. “It happens to the best. Even me.” 

He noted the sadness in her voice, the strange clenching happening in his chest again. He quickly shoveled more chili in his mouth, wanting to keep the wetness in his eyes from falling. Tears. He’d seen them on her. When he’d been...the second time. He’d seen them a lot on her, and he hated it. He’d seen them in her eyes this morning, and he hated himself for doing that to her. 

“You sure think a lot, don’t you.” She said, and he realized he’d been staring into his chili again. “That’s okay. You’ve got a lot to think about. I’ll try to be quiet.” She rested her chin on her arms, which were folded over her knees. 

_ You don’t have to.  _ He thought. He was remembering more, feeling more when he was around her. But he kept quiet, finishing up his chili as she tried to be quiet, but failed. 


	21. He Cares About You

The days went by slowly, James and I falling into a routine. He would stay awake at night while I slept, and then he’d sleep during the day. I’d bring him food sometimes, and other times he’d eat with the crew. We shared a few words, mostly in passing. I knew he was trying to work through things. From what I’d heard so far, he didn’t remember much, but it was starting to come back. He’d started having nightmares because of it. The times I’d been in the room while he was asleep, he’d murmur, sometimes in English, sometimes in other languages. He’d jerk around the bed, and I was worried he’d fall right off. 

I supposed I wasn’t any better. I still had nightmares, mostly of Rumlow. Some of James, before he was James. Some of my father. I usually woke up to James as he tried to pull me from the horror my subconscious created. I felt bad, that I couldn’t do the same for him, but he reassured me it was probably for the best. He was remembering things. 

I woke up one night with something warm against my back. It took me a moment to register we were still on the boat, just a few days from Italy. I froze, my body stiffening in fear as I waited for the hands to start touching me, for it to happen finally. Maybe this was what he was waiting for. For me to be at my weakest, let my guard down. Get me to trust him so that it would be easier. 

“You were shaking.” I heard his voice, soft from somewhere above me. 

I turned my head, gripping the blanket tightly to see him sitting beside me on the bed. The warm thing against my back was his leg, stretched out in front of him on the bed, the other on the floor. He was staring blankly at the wall in front of him, his hands folded in his lap. 

“I can move.” He said, shifting slightly. 

I inhaled shakily. “It’s fine.” I shifted away from him a couple inches. 

But it wasn’t fine. I was terrified, my organs shaking as I waited for him to move. To pounce. But he didn’t even shift his weight, reach up to scratch his nose. Nothing. He was as still as a statue, his breathing steady. I almost would have thought he was asleep, but I knew better than that. I wasn’t going to get much sleep the rest of the night either. 

He was staring at the wall still when the sun came up. He seemed lost in thought, somewhere deep, trying to remember, or in the process of remembering. I stopped moving, not wanting to disturb him, if he was remembering. Sure, some things he did, I was sure he’d rather not remember, but there were other things. Back before the war, back before HYDRA. I tried to remember those days too, but even I felt them slipping away from me slowly. This was my life now. A life of fear, constantly having to be on the run because of HYDRA. I felt bad for him. He’d endured so much torture, dealt some out as well. He’d killed people. Innocent people. 

He finally moved off the bed, walking to the duffel bag. He was getting scruffy, growing a beard. He looked like a sailor now, like he belonged on the ship. I was sure I didn’t look much better, but we were on the run. We weren’t supposed to look clean and fresh. We were also on a boat, travelling to a different country to escape people trying to kill us. 

“Do you want breakfast?” I asked as I pulled my sweatshirt on over my head. “I can see if I can bring something up for you.” 

“No.” He said, shaking his head. “Go, eat something. I’ll be fine.” 

I could tell he wanted to be alone, so I did just that, heading down to the mess room for breakfast. The crew nodded their good mornings, not paying me much attention. Except for Lorenzo. The first crew member I’d met, and one of the few that speaks English. I sat by him once I had my breakfast, making small talk with him. 

“Where is your companion this morning?” He asked me. 

“Probably in bed.” I said. “He’s tired. I offered to bring him breakfast, but he turned me down.” 

“He cares about you.” Lorenzo said after a moment. “A lot. More than either of you realize. I’ve seen him. How he watches your every move, watches the crew around you.” 

“Yeah...he’s pretty protective. I haven’t known him all that long, but we’ve been through alot in that short amount of time.” It was true. It had only been a few weeks since we’d first met when he’d dragged me home kicking and screaming. “I guess he feels like it’s his job to protect me.” 

Lorenzo nodded, but the look on his face said otherwise. I didn’t push it, letting him get off to work, but not before he slipped me some extra food. 

“For your companion,  _ Passerotta. _ ” He winked at me before slipping off to go above deck. 

I carried the biscuits in my pocket back up to the room. I listened for a moment, but couldn’t hear anything besides the creaking of the ship. So I cautiously opened the door, slipping inside. James was asleep, the blanket tugged up around his neck. He looked peaceful this time, so I moved slowly, placing the biscuits by the bed. 

“You don’t have to do that.” He said, nearly scaring me to death. 

“Do what?” I asked, after taking a moment to breathe. Calm my pounding heart. 

“Sneak around. You always wake me up when you come in.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry. I’ll stop coming in while you're asleep then.” 

“No.” He said, sitting up. “I’m just not used to sleeping. Every small noise wakes me up. I’m sorry for scaring you.” He grabbed the rolled up biscuits, breaking one in half before eating it slowly. “I have to get used to a lot of things again.” He said, looking down at the ground. 

My heart ached for him a little. He’d been through so much. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved so much more. He was Captain America’s best friend. He deserved the world. He deserved to be with Steve again, and heal and get his memories back. I knew he wouldn’t be the same, I wouldn’t ever be either, but maybe Lorenzo was right. He did care about me. He just wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. Or that he was feeling at all. But maybe...maybe there was hope that we would heal. It would take time, but maybe it was starting to look possible. Getting away, escaping somewhere relatively safe to take one thing off our minds so we could focus on what we really needed. Healing. 


	22. Unexpected Complication

Were were a day from docking in Italy when a storm hit out of nowhere. The temperature dropped several degrees, the seas getting rough, and the rain started pouring. I had moved outside our cabin, watching the thousand tons of steel being tossed on the waves, while getting soaked by the rain. My skin was stinging it was so cold, but I couldn't look away. There was something ethereal about standing on something so seemingly indestructible and stable, and watching it get tossed around. 

Until a hand grabbed my hood and yanked me back into the cabin. 

"You're soaked." James said, throwing a towel at me. "Stay inside." 

I was shivering as I climbed in the shower, trying to warm myself up in the lukewarm spray. But it didn't really help. There was a bite to the air, and we were approaching nightfall. I changed into dirty clothes, after having long run out of clean ones, but at least they were dry. James was sitting on the chair, taking up his usual nightly spot. I laid down on the bed, really feeling the rocking of the ship now. 

"I don't think I can sleep." I groaned, turning on my side, but that didn't help. 

"Just try." James said, slouching in the chair. 

I did eventually fall asleep, the ship’s rocking slowly getting smoother as we passed through the storm. I wasn't sure how long I slept, but it didn't feel like much. I felt awful. My head hurt and I was achy as I left the cabin, land a lot closer than I had thought it would be. James was standing, leaning against the railing, his back to me. 

"We'll have to be sneaky about this." He said, his back still to me. "They're going to check everything. We need to get off the ship without anyone noticing. Get some breakfast and say goodbye now. We'll have to time this just right." 

I did just that, bidding the crew farewell as I gagged through breakfast. I wasn't sure when our next meal would be, so I ate, even though I wasn't hungry. 

Lorenzo bid me a teary goodbye, wishing me luck on my journey. I thanked him, taking my bag from James as Lorenzo said something to him in Italian. It sounded like a threat, but the idea of James feeling threatened by anyone was absurd.

We snuck off the ship, James dragging me behind him as we rushed off the pier, making our way into town. My nose started running as I kept my head down, my sniffles obviously annoying James. 

"I'm sorry." I whispered as we stood at a crosswalk. "I can't help it. My nose is runny."

"Just keep up and stay quiet." He said, leading me further into town. 

It was still early, not many people up and around yet. Meaning it was all that much easier for James to steal a car. 

I curled up in the passenger seat, pulling my knees to my chest as I leaned my head against the window. My headache had only gotten bigger, and I was exhausted. Sixteen days on a ship. Who wouldn't be. James drove from the city, my eyes quickly drooping closed as we sped away to our new life. 

********

James wasn't sure what was wrong. She'd fallen asleep fairly quickly; he was expecting that. But she wasn’t waking up. She swatted weakly at his hand as he tried to shake her, groaning and shifting slightly before she was out again. He’d found an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of the Italian countryside for them to stay in for a couple days. Only he hadn’t counted on there being a problem like this. He shook her again, rougher this time, but she only moved limply, not even frowning. He cupped her face with his hands, feeling her temperature with the bionic limb. The heat of her face slipping through the sensors in the metal. She was warm. Too warm. 

Her face was flushed, nose red. The only reason he even knew she was still alive was the ragged breaths that came from her chest. He vaguely remembered something like this before. But it was nothing more than a feeling. Absolutely no help to him. 

He lifted her in his arms, carrying her into the house. She curled against him, and then he knew something was seriously wrong. She would never had done that if she were okay. He doubted she would let him pick her up, unless she had no other choice. She shivered, a shaky inhale through her mouth quickly turning into a cough. It was ugly, deep and wet sounding. She whined a little, curling up tighter in his arms as he carried her up the stairs and into one of the empty bedrooms. He’d pulled one of the mattresses in there, knowing he probably wouldn’t sleep until they made it to Romania. But now with this unforeseen complication, it was making things a little more difficult. 

He felt something inside him clench again as she curled up on the mattress, shaking slightly. She looked hot, but when he tried to pull her jacket off, she only gripped it tighter. He decided to leave her be for the moment while he unpacked the rest of their stuff. He’d hit a few stores on their way, grabbing some necessary items: food, matches, propane, batteries, a flashlight. There were pots and pans in the kitchen, old, rusted, but still usable. He boiled water in them, getting them as clean as possible before carrying one of the large pots upstairs. 

She was still in the same position, shaking. Her brow was furrowed, and her temperature had gone up. His brow creased with worry he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. This wasn’t supposed to happen. And now he didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t dragged her this far just to lose her. That wasn’t part of the plan either. 

So he loaded her back up in the stolen car, driving back to the nearest town. He found a pharmacy, conversing with the worker, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. The old woman confirmed it was a cold with one look at her through the car window. He’d been a little hesitant to allow it, but the woman was old, and showed no sign of danger, or a threat. She gave him medication, telling him to keep her hydrated and make sure she ate something, even if it was just broth.

She fought the fever through the night, sleeping restlessly. James had sat across the room from her, in front of the door, watching her carefully. Every shift, every cough, every shaky inhale had him on edge. He’d hung her clothes, as well as his to dry after he’d washed them, along the wall. She’d soaked through her shirt and sweatshirt, her body covered in a layer of sweat as she fought the cold. He gave her water every few minutes, making sure she was comfortable, wishing he could do more. 

A hospital was out of the question. Doctors asked too much, and it left them in the open. All he could do was pray that she made it through the night, and this hadn’t all been in vain after all. 


	23. Guilt

Olivia was doing better by the next morning. She still had a cough, and a runny nose, and her fever was still there, but it wasn’t as extreme as it had been the day before. James had curled up with her in the dead of night when she’d looked really bad. She had been shaking, her teeth chattering. It wasn’t that cold, but there still was a faint chill to the air, Summer not quite having hit yet. He’d sat down next to her on the mattress, her body immediately scooting back to his leg, seeking out any warmth. He’d put his metal hand on her forehead, her skin slicked with sweat despite her shivers. She’d grabbed his hand, surprising him, and held it to her forehead, refusing to let him move it. It had startled him, that she would be so willing to let him touch her at all, but then again she was delirious with fever. 

He’d fallen asleep sometime in the early morning, the sky just starting to lighten as he drifted off. He dreamed of a small, skinny man...Steve...he was sick. A bad case of bronchitis. Steve was curled up on the couch of their small living room, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. James was in the kitchen, cooking something in a pot...chicken soup. Steve’s mom’s recipe. She had died...not too long before this memory. They were all they had of each other. 

He was startled awake by a cough that sounded too close. He looked down, Olivia curled against his side, facing him. She was gripping his metal arm, his sleeve pushed up around his elbow. Her cheek was leaning against the cool metal, her arms wrapped around it. He swallowed the lump in his throat, emotions he didn’t know coming to the surface. She looked so innocent there, curled around such a deadly weapon. He’d crushed steel with that arm, torn car doors off their hinges. But yet, she was snugging with it, like one would with a stuffed animal. Her features were relaxed, the frown that had marred her face, gone. She was still warm, but the fever seemed to be calming just a little. He knew it would still be too risky to move. He couldn’t run with her like this, and if they got caught, or someone saw them, they would be toast. 

He found himself reaching over to her as he stared at her, brushing a stray hair from her face. It was damp with sweat, but that didn’t bother him. He probably didn’t smell that great either. He’d need to shave, his face starting to itch. He felt the strange urge build up in him again as she coughed, still deep and wet sounding. He froze as she gasped a couple times after coughing, and he didn’t move until her breathing had quieted down, or at least back to what it was before. 

He gently pried himself away from her long enough to reach for the water bottle a few feet away. He lifted her, supporting her with his arm as he helped her drink, her hand coming up to hold the water bottle where it was as she finished it off. 

He laid her back down, making sure she was comfortable before standing, stripping off his jacket to drape it over her. She sighed, coughing again before stilling. He refilled the water bottle with the water he’d boiled last night, before setting it next to her. He’d need to boil more, so he packed the empty pot down the stairs to do just that. 

He gave himself a sponge bath, using the broken mirror in the bathroom to shave. He’d need to cut his hair too, the strands getting long and bothersome. He thought about giving her a sponge bath as well, but decided against it. That crossed way too many lines for him. He’d already defiled her, being forced on her like he was. He felt something inside him clench deep in his gut as he stared at his reflection. Was it guilt? It made him feel slightly sick. Like he could throw up at the thought. He remembered the way she’d screamed. The sound echoing in his ears. She’d pleaded with him, but he had to. His handler had made him. He knew his handler had done it too. He’d overheard them talking. The things he’d said about her, the way he’d described her made him angry. 

James turned, sending his fist through the bathroom wall. He leaned there, his hands supporting him as he breathed. He felt sick, all of those memories coming back at once. It wasn’t fair, that she had to go through that. That she had to be this way now, because of HYDRA, because of him. His hands curled into fists as he fought the urge to go on a rampage, tear apart the house. If he woke her, that would only make her more afraid. But if he ever saw his handler again, he didn’t think he’d have the same control. 

*****

She curled up against him again that night, leaning her forehead against his arm. He could feel the heat of her body next to him, the sensors in his arm registering it. He itched at his arm, the place where metal met skin. He hadn’t noticed the pain much before, but now it was starting to come back. The arm was heavy, and sometimes it tugged at his skin, his muscle. If he didn’t think about it, he didn’t notice it, but there were times it was all he could think about. 

Olivia shifted, rolling on her back as a cough, and another, and another escaped her. He leaned over, grabbing the water bottle, lifting her into a sitting position against his chest. She coughed a few more times before she quieted, and he helped her drink. Her head lolled against his neck, her skin warm against his as he froze. Her hand was gripping his shirt, her legs thrown over one of his as she curled into him. He had to remember to breathe for a moment. He didn’t move his arms, didn’t wrap himself around her like he wanted to do. If she woke up like that, she’d surely go into a panic. And he didn’t need that. He wanted her to trust him. He didn’t want her to be scared of him. But after everything he’d done, and not just to her, he’d fear himself too. He was a machine. A killer, a monster. She had every right to fear him. 

He didn’t know he’d fallen asleep until the sun was shining in his eyes. His cheek was resting on Olivia’s head, her body still curled up against him. He found himself feeling lighter than he had before. Her temperature had gone down, her skin not quite as warm as it had been before. He couldn’t bring himself to move, not wanting to disturb her, so he sat still, watching the sun come up over the hills. 

That was until she woke up. He felt her shift, stretching a little as she groaned. She stilled against him, and he thought she had gone back to sleep until she stiffened, her breathing picking up. She was off him and across the mattress in a half a second, backing herself against the wall. Her breathing was ragged, coughs tearing from her chest at the sudden movement, and she looked pale, like she could pass out. 

He stood up, holding his hands up as he backed away from her. “You need to breathe.” He said. “Calm down. I didn’t touch you.” 

She was shaking, tears in her distant eyes, and he was sure she was flashing back to everything that had happened. He wanted to calm her, consolidate her, but he wasn’t sure how. How did you calm down someone who was terrified of you? Someone who was still sick and needed to take a deep breath before she passed out? 

“You’re sick.” He said, snapping her back to reality. She was small, curled up as tightly as she could in the corner. He swallowed his guilt, trying to get her to listen to him. “You need to breathe, otherwise you’re going to pass out.” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she tried to breathe, but the cough was making that hard. He was suddenly reminded of something...Steve had asthma. And when he got sick it made it worse. James remembered his ragged, wheezing breaths as he coughed, his asthma always making being sick so much worse. But she didn’t have asthma. She was panicking. This was fear.  

He didn’t know what to do as he looked around the room, searching for something to help him. His eyes landed on the water bottle and he moved with the silent grace of an assassin and grabbed it, tossing it on the bed. 

She jumped when it hit the mattress, her eyes flying open. She grabbed the water bottle with shaking hands, lifting it to her lips as she drank greedily, her breathing seeming to even out as she did. 

“I’m going downstairs.” He said after she finished, his hands still raised. “Just yell if you need anything.” He slipped out the door, heading downstairs. 

He stood in the front doorway, looking out over the countryside. He’d avoided one crisis. She was awake, but terrified and almost passed out because she was panicking. Because he’d been stupid enough to fall asleep holding her. But she had curled up around him in her fever induced delirium. She had been asleep, resting, what she really needed, and he hadn’t wanted to risk waking her if he moved her. But that had been stupid, thinking she couldn’t wake up sometime in the night and start panicking. But at least she was making some progress with her sickness. That was one problem starting to solve itself. The car driving down the road, headed straight for them though, that was another problem. 


	24. Running

“Shit.” James breathed, bolting into the house. He grabbed everything he’d brought in downstairs before running upstairs. 

He threw open the bedroom door, ignoring the way Olivia jumped. She was still curled in the corner, clutching the water bottle. She coughed, the sound loud in his ears as he threw their belongings back into their bags, not caring if things got mixed up. They could sort that out later. 

“What’s happening?” She asked, drowsy, her voice rough from the cold. 

“Someone’s coming.” He said. 

He heard the car door shut, the crackle of a radio, all of his instincts kicking in. He set the bags on the mattress by Olivia’s feet, grabbing the handgun from the side pocket of his duffle. He put a finger to his lips, Olivia staring at him wide eyed, holding her breath. 

He moved silently out the door, gun in his hand as he listened to the body move around downstairs. There was only one, something he was grateful for. He moved down the stairs, following silently behind the officer as he checked the rooms. Someone must have seen them squatting and called the police. He didn’t want to kill the officer. He wouldn’t do that. Had he still been under HYDRA’s control, he would have shot the officer before he even stepped foot in the house. But things had changed. He didn’t do that anymore. He just had to take him down long enough for them to escape. Get away before he called for backup. He’d need to ditch the car as soon as possible as well. 

He snuck up silently behind the officer, the poor man never seeing it coming and wrapped his flesh arm around his neck, cutting off his air. The officer struggled, but he wasn’t any match for James. He lowered the officer to the floor gently, wanting to make sure he didn’t get hurt any further before he stood back up. Olivia was standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him wide eyed. 

“Is he dead?” She asked. 

“No. Just unconscious. Go get in the car.” He said, running past her to grab their bags. 

She was climbing in the passenger seat when he came back out, tossing the bags in the backseat before jumping in the driver’s side. She coughed, taking a drink of the water as he drove off, speeding away from the house. 

“Someone must have seen us.” He said. 

He’d hidden the car from the road, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t have spotted them. But it wasn’t HYDRA. They would have gone in with a team, strike when they would have least expected it, and that would have been the end. James would have fought them hard, but with Olivia being sick it would have made things far more complicated. She couldn’t run. She’d just be a sitting duck. They would have shot her no matter how hard James had fought.  

“How far is it to Romania?” She asked, leaning back in her seat, drawing him from his thoughts. 

“Two days by back roads. But you’re not in any condition to travel yet.” He said, glancing at her as she stared out the window. She didn’t shy away as he reached over, feeling her forehead. “You’re still feverish.” She just groaned lightly in response. 

She was going to be weak for a few days. He’d need to think things through. He’d ditch the car in the next city, maybe find someplace to hole up there for a couple days. Then they’d move on, get as far as Slovenia before they’d need to ditch the car, and move on foot for a while. But he’d need to make sure she was strong enough for that. It would be dangerous, and he didn’t need her lagging behind and putting them at risk. 

He found them a place in the next city, a recently abandoned motel that still had water running. Electricity, not so much, but that wasn’t a problem. They’d survived so far on the bare minimum. Though, Olivia being sick did make things a little more complicated. She was awake, but only for a short time before she’d fall back asleep. Her fever was kicking up again, and he hated having to move her so much, but he didn’t have much of a choice. They’d be safe once they got to Bucharest. It was just getting there that was becoming the problem. 

Olivia’s cough persisted for the four days they were in the abandoned motel. The fever finally broke the third morning there, her sweat soaking the sheets he’d wrapped her up in. She was still weak, weary, but she kept complaining that her head hurt. He took that as a good sign that she was starting to feel better. He’d gone out and gotten more medication, and some painkillers to help her. She was drinking a lot of water too, something else he took as a good sign. 

He’d finally been able to shower at the hotel, the first time since they’d been on the ship. It felt nice, being able to feel clean. He’d cut his hair too, shortening it slightly, just so it wasn’t past his shoulders anymore. Olivia had taken a bath after her fever broke, soaking in the tub for a good hour, until he’d knocked on the door to make sure she was still breathing. She looked better once she was clean, the steam having perked her up a little. Her cough wasn’t as heavy and her sinuses seemed to be clearing. So he made her sit in the hot tub every day, soaking in the steam. He remembered that, from a long time ago. Steve’s mom used to make him sit over a pot of boiling water with a towel on his head whenever he got sick. He was glad he remembered that now. At least he could offer her a little relief. 

On the fifth day they set out, taking back roads towards Slovenia. It would take them nearly a whole day to get there, and he hoped Olivia would be strong enough to hike into Slovenia. Not that he couldn’t carry her, but if they were compromised, it would make things more difficult. And he wanted this to be as easy as possible for both their sakes. 

 


	25. Trekking

My body still ached from the fever as James and I got out of the car. My head hurt, and I still had a runny nose and a bit of a cough, but I knew we couldn’t afford to dally any longer. So I sucked it up and put on my big girl panties. James had made sure I’d eaten and gotten plenty to drink before we made it to the border. I knew the last thing he wanted was to for me to fall behind because I wasn’t strong enough. And I was determined to be strong. 

I followed him out into the wilderness, packing my backpack with me. He’d switched out to a backpack as well, one of those giant camping ones you see in outdoor commercials. I knew he was strong, but I also felt a little bad for carrying so little. But he didn’t say anything as he trudged through the woods, breaking trail for me. I had about four water bottles on my person, and I knew James had about six more. He said it would be about a day’s hike until we saw civilization again. Something I was not looking forward to. 

He stayed mostly silent on our journey, lost in his thoughts. I could practically hear him stewing in his own head, lost in thought and memory. I, on the other hand, was trying to remember how to breathe. Navigating the woods on the tail end of a cold was not fun. I was practically wheezing, and we were only an hour in. 

James stopped and turned back to me, waiting for me to climb over a log. I was doing okay, until I got lightheaded at the top and fell the two feet to the dirt. I groaned, my face burning slightly as I got back to my feet. I brushed my clothes off, looking back up at him. He had a hard look in his eyes as he waited for me. I kept my head down, following behind him. I was not cut out for this hiking thing. Much less without a trail. Or a guide that had a map or a compass. I had to trust that he knew completely where we were going. 

We finally stopped about five hours in for a lunch break. I collapsed to the ground under a tree, not even bothering to take my backpack off. My cough tore through my chest, making me wince as I drank some water. James tossed a protein bar at me, nearly hitting me in the face. He was sitting a ways away from me on a log, digging through the bag. Something seemed off about him, but I didn’t push him. Maybe he was upset at me for lagging behind. For slowing him down. Maybe I should have run on my own. 

* * *

 

James was tired. His brain was haywire today, for whatever reason. Maybe it was the stress, or the fact his nerves were on edge, but he couldn’t get his mind to stop reeling. Memories were floating around his consciousness, not quite staying long enough to figure out what they meant before the next one came. He had to remind himself to slow down, wait for Olivia to catch up. 

He’d taken every precaution, packing protein bars and nuts, as well as plenty of water. They had ten bottles between them, and he could go with very little. It was mostly for her. She still had an edge to her cold, and she wasn’ quite one hundred percent yet. He especially noticed when he had to stop a second time only an hour in. He could hear her wheezing behind him, and he stopped, turning to watch her climb over the log. It had been an easy jump for him, but she was struggling, her body giving out at the top and she fell back to the ground. It wasn’t far, but he could see the embarrassment on her face. He thought he should help her, but she got up, dusting herself off before continuing. She was determined. More so than he thought. 

He stopped after a few hours, Olivia sinking to the ground, backpack and all. He’d been suffering a horrible memory of his time with HYDRA, and needed a moment to think. He reached into the bag, pulling out a protein bar before tossing it to Olivia, not really paying attention to where it went. He was busy digging around in his bag, checking to make sure all the weapons were still there, and the supplies they’d need if they got caught out here at night. Which at this pace, that would be the case. He knew he could just carry her for a while, pick up some lost time, but he doubted she’d agree. She was still wary of him, scared. He’d seen it on her face in the abandoned house in Italy. When she’d woken up, the terror that had covered her features, scared he’d touched her in her fever induced delirium. Scared he’d taken advantage of her. It made him mad that she had to suffer like that. 

He zipped the bag back up, slinging it over his back. He waited for her to get back up, struggling slightly, but they had to move. They were out in the open here, and he had a weak link. He kept silent, and he was grateful she did as well as they continued on, heading in the direction he knew the nearest town was. He’d studied the map so many times in their abandoned motel room it made him slightly nauseous to think about it. He knew it like the back of his hand. And he was determined to get through the day without losing something. Or someone. 

* * *

 

I struggled to keep up with James, his long strides and agile movements making me look like a newborn giraffe. I was getting tired, my feet hurt and I was starving. Protein bars only offered so much sustenance. I wanted real food. Like chicken noodle soup, and a hot bath, and a real bed. I didn’t want to be out in the middle of the forest, on the run with a brooding assassin. I didn’t want to be in the woods with an assassin period. What if he was going to kill me? What if he had a flashback and turned on me. I couldn’t run, not even when I was healthy. I was no match for him. I guess I would just have to accept my fate. Death in the middle of the forest in Europe where no one would know I was missing, and no one would find me. 

Except I was wrong. 

* * *

 

“Why are we here?” Sam asked Steve as they walked up to the house. 

“When I went to see Alexander Pierce, right before I became SHIELD’s most wanted there was a girl there. Rumlow was leading her from his office.” Steve stopped, pushing the front door the rest of the way open. 

There was broken glass everywhere, the house looking trashed. Pictures had been shot off the wall, littering the floor. The fridge doors were open in the kitchen, the smell of spoiled milk hitting both of them as it had dried on the floor where it fell. There was no one in the house that Steve could tell. He made his way down the hallways, Sam following him closely. He turned at an open door, entering the bedroom. 

The walls were lavender, a white and purple comforter on the bed, rumpled like someone had jumped on it. There were clothes pulled out of the dresser, some hanging on the open drawers, others strewn across the floor. 

“Pierce only spoke of one daughter, but there were two pictures on his desk. One was her. The girl I saw.” 

“And you think she might be HYDRA?” Sam asked, picking a picture up off the floor. Two blonde girls stared back at him, both smiling and looking happy. 

“No. You didn’t see the look on her face. She was terrified.” Steve sighed, picking up the stuffed bear on her dresser. “She pleaded with me for help, but I didn’t. I kept walking.” 

“Do you think she knew?” 

“It’s possible.” 

“It’s a lost cause, man.” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “If she knew, or even if she didn’t, HYDRA has her. Or she’s dead.” 

“But there’s still a chance.” Steve was refusing to give up hope. “What if she knew Bucky? What if she knows where he is? There’s a chance that if we find her, we can find Bucky.” 

 


	26. A Short Rest

It was well into the evening, the sun almost setting. I was still stumbling behind James, and I could tell he was getting annoyed. Especially when I fell for the hundredth time, my foot catching on a root. I had half a mind not to get up. Just to lay there and die. My head was pounding, my stomach hurt, and I was tired and sore. I really wanted to give up, but the hand that grabbed my backpack, hauling me to my feet said otherwise. 

"We're almost there." James said. 

"How much longer?" I whined, my feet nearly dragging behind me as James pulled me along behind him. 

"Three miles at the most." 

Well, it was close. But it didn't seem like it. The last three miles stretched on and on, and I nearly cried when I saw the back of the first building.

I fell to my hands and feet in the cobblestone alleyway, whimpering as the beat up joints hit the stone. I might have actually been crying. I wasn't quite sure at that point. James grabbed me, pulling my arm around his shoulder as he dragged me through the alleys, looking for somewhere we could stay. I would have been fine sleeping on the street that night, just as long as I could sit down and rest.

James found a small motel outside the city, and I nearly cried with relief when he dropped me in a chair out front. He went in and was gone for a few minutes before he came back, helping me to the door of the room he’d rented. I steadied myself on a wall, my legs shaking as he scouted the room, checking for possible wires, cameras, anything. It would have seemed paranoid to someone else, but I was getting used to it. We were on the run, and I knew he was taking a big risk staying in a motel for the night. But I also knew he was doing it for me. 

“We’re clear.” He said from the bathroom. 

I finally found it in me to drop my backpack, stumbling to the nearest bed before falling face first on it. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep for a while, because the next thing I knew, James was shaking my shoulder, telling me to wake up. 

“W-what?” I yawned, wincing as I put pressure on my hands to lift myself into a sitting position. 

“Go take a shower. You’ll feel better.” He said before leaving my side, digging through the backpack he’d set on the other bed. 

I got up, grabbing clothes from my backpack before limping to the bathroom. It was still steamy and warm, meaning James must have just gotten out. I blinked, staring at the faucet for a moment, my sleep hazed brain not quite comprehending anything yet. We’d hiked all day through the wilderness, crossed the border into another country, I’d fallen probably 150 times, and James was probably upset that I’d held him back. Great. 

I finally turned on the faucet, stripping out of my sweaty, dirt covered clothes. My hands were scraped up, several splinters sticking out of the skin. My knees were cut, some of them still bleeding. My feet were blistered and raw and I wasn’t sure how much longer my legs could hold me up. 

I climbed under the water, nearly singing at how wonderful it felt. I wasn’t sure how long I just stood there, soaking in the water, but it had to be a long time. I was surprised James hadn’t knocked on the door yet, to see if i was still breathing. I shampooed my hair, and used half a bar of soap on my skin before picking the splinters out of my hands. I hoped James could find a car to steel, because I wasn’t walking anywhere for a while. 

I dried myself off, a little sad to get out of the shower. It felt so wonderful to be clean. It was almost like a small comfort now. A hot shower and a real bed. Things I’d taken for granted for a long time. James was laying on the bed I’d first fell on when I left the bathroom. I set my dirty clothes by my backpack before towelling my hair dry. I could feel James watching me as I braided the wet strands to keep it out of my face. I brushed my teeth, another thing I was grateful to do before turning back around and heading to the bed. 

I sat down on the edge, my back to James as I used the lotion in the room to try and give my skin some relief, especially my feet. I turned when something landed next to me on the bed. A first aid kit. I turned around completely, James not looking like he had moved, except his eyes were on the wall in front of him. 

“We’re leaving early.” He said finally as I dug through the first aid kit. “Get some rest.” 

He turned on his side, facing the door. I stared at his back for a moment before cleaning my cuts with an antiseptic wipe, before bandaging all I could. I curled up in the sheets, my back to James. I knew something was bothering him, but I was too afraid to ask. 

I woke up to the smell of something wonderful. My stomach growled as I stretched, turning over to see James packing some things in his backpack. 

“Get up. We’ll eat on the road.” He said, not bothering to look at me. 

I got up, limping to the bathroom before pulling on my shoes. I was rather hesitant to do it, after spending an entire day in them, but I didn’t have much of a choice. At least I’d bandaged my blisters. I packed up my bag, following James out to a stolen car. At least we didn’t have to walk anymore. 

He dropped a bag of something in my lap when I climbed in the passenger side. I looked at him, but he was pulling out of the motel parking lot. I wasn’t sure what the item in the bag was, but it tasted delicious. It was real food, and I wasn’t about to complain about that. 

We drove well into the day, James stopping once to fuel up and grab food for me before we continued on. I knew he was trying to get through Slovenia as quickly as possible, which would go faster if he used main roads, but I understood the danger there. I was just glad we were in a car this time. But I knew that was quickly going to change, as we had to sneak into Hungary as well. Which meant more walking. 

James was quiet for most of the trip, and I could almost hear him stewing again. Something was bugging him, but I wasn’t going to ask. I didn’t want to risk accidentally setting him off and getting myself killed. So I curled up in the passenger seat, trying to mentally prepare myself for more walking.

*******

James didn’t mean to be so brooding. But his memories were still assaulting him. Mostly things from when he was still with HYDRA. His body count was rising, and it wasn’t something he was proud of. He’d rather not remember them. So when Olivia had fallen for the hundredth time on their excursion through the Slovenian wilderness, he’d nearly lost it. He turned, watching her as she laid there. She was probably thinking it was best to just stay there and die. But he didn’t drag her along this far to just leave her. So he pulled her up by her backpack, setting her back on her feet. 

“We’re almost there.” He said, his trained ears already picking up the sounds of cars. 

She asked how far, and so he told her, estimating the distance. He hadn’t payed that much attention to how close they were, mainly using his ears as his guide. And even he was glad when they broke through the trees. He’d learned to do things without complaining, without questioning, so it wasn’t hard for him. But Olivia wasn’t trained like that. She hadn’t been brainwashed by HYDRA and turned into a solider. So when she fell to her hands and knees, he couldn’t help but wince slightly. She was crying, exhaustion or relief, or maybe both, he wasn’t sure. 

He grabbed her, pulling her up, not wanting to make a scene. She didn’t fight him as he practically dragged her through the alleyways, looking for somewhere they could stay. He knew the street wasn’t an option, and the quietly crying girl on his shoulder wouldn’t have gone for an abandoned building. So he went on until he saw a small, mostly vacant motel on the outskirts of town. It was risky, but it would have to do, if they were going to continue on. 

He dropped her in a chair before going inside to book a room. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew all these languages, but it was coming in handy. HYDRA had probably programmed them in his head, and now all it took was a small thought and he could speak just about anything. He didn’t see, or feel any threats as he led Olivia to their room, but he couldn’t help but check for any kind of tracking device, wires, cameras. Anything. 

Olivia stood watching him, not saying a word as he went through his routine, finishing in the bathroom. He told her it was okay and he heard her fall on one of the beds. He left the bathroom to grab a change of clothes, and she was already asleep. So he left her, taking a shower so she could get just a little rest before he woke her up. 

She was groggy as she stumbled to the shower. He could smell the blood and knew her knees had to be cut up. He moved to the bed she had previously occupied, feeling better being closer to the door. He could protect her better from that vantage point, than behind her. 

She stayed in the shower for a long time, and he let her. He’d been hard pressed to make it before dark, and so he’d pushed her. He was nervous they were going to get caught, so he drove hard. He knew HYDRA would put out a kill order. They were beyond trying to catch him. It had been too long. They could wipe him again, but even that was iffy if it would work. His memories had started coming back, and they were coming on strong. And now they could have every assassin, mercenary, contract killer, hitman on their tale, looking for them. He’d have to be extra careful now. He just had to get to Bucharest. They’d be safe there. At least for a while. 


	27. Curiosity Killed The Cat

James pulled the car over, driving slightly down a dirt path, hiding us from sight. He put the car in park before getting out, heading to the back to grab something out of his bag. My heart was pounding, wondering if he was going to kill me now. Dump my body here and then head on his way. He climbed back in the driver's side, tossing it at me. It was a blanket.

"We're sleeping here tonight. Cross into Hungary tomorrow."

"That means more walking, doesn't it?" I asked as I wrapped the blanket around me the best I could.

"Yes. But we have to be careful. It's not just HYDRA after us anymore." He was silent for a moment. "I'm going to keep you as safe as I can. But I need you to try as hard as you can to keep up."

"I know. And I man. I just...I don't do this kind of stuff."

"You're not a soldier."

"I'm just a normal human, who happened to have the world's shittiest dad." I shook my head. "I just wish I could have watched him die."

James didn't tell her he'd been the one to do it. He'd gone back after he'd pulled Steve from the river. He'd remembered the man who'd been responsible for his torture, his suffering. He didn't know he'd been Olivia's father at that point. Otherwise he would have tortured him longer.

He'd found Pierce stumbling away from the rubble, injured. He'd been shot, and was bleeding in several places. James hadn't been kind, shoving the injured handler in the back of an SUV before driving away to the bank. He'd tortured him there, killing him slowly, watching him bleed out before choking the life out of him at the last moment, watching as the life faded from his eyes. He almost felt bad afterwards, after he'd told himself he wasn't going to kill anymore. But when he remembered Olivia, remembered Pierce was her father, the guilt was gone. He was almost ashamed at himself, that he didn't drag his death out longer. He'd died too quickly.

Olivia slept through the night. He knew he wouldn't sleep out in the open like that. So he sat, watching over her protectively, like some dark guardian angel, .45 in hand. He was ready to shoot whoever tried to harm Olivia. He may have said he wasn't going to kill anymore, but if anyone harmed Olivia, he wasn't sure he could keep that promise.

We were hiking again. We'd ditched the car at the border, heading out into the wilderness. My feet still ached, but I wasn't going to complain anymore, at least not out loud. James was already doing so much for me, just keeping me alive being one thing, I hated being a burden. I wanted to prove I could hold my own. Keep up with him. Though, that was quickly changing the further we went.

We finally stopped for lunch in a relatively clear area. I sat down on a log, digging through my bag to find a water bottle, and my hand brushed against a piece of paper. I pulled it out, remembering what it was. I had forgotten about it over the past couple weeks. I looked from James, to the paper and back.

"Hey, James? You speak Russian, right?"

"Yes." He said, frowning at me.

"Can you read this?" I asked, handing him the paper.

He took it staring down at the words for a moment, and then suddenly I was shoved back against a tree, a glove covered metal hand around my neck. I gasped for breath, staring into James' cold eyes.

"How do you know those words." His voice was rough, the look on his face murderous. "Do you work for them? Have you been leading them on our trail?"

"I-" I tried to speak, but he was nearly choking me to death.

He released my neck, but his arm shoved against my chest painfully, pinning me to the tree. My heart was pounding in my ears as I coughed, trying to get air back into my lungs. I was terrified as he leaned closer to my face. My vision was swimming and I felt like my chest was going to cave him with how he was pressing against it. He said he'd keep me safe, but this was obviously something a lot worse.

"I had a dream. You were carving them into my skin. I was just curious, I didn't think they meant anything." Tears were falling down my face as he pressed harder against my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.

He pondered my words for a moment before he released me, my body dropping to the ground as I coughed, my chest burning. "One suspicious move, and you're on your own." He said, turning his back to me as he walked to his bag.

I got up, grabbing my backpack, zipping it up, following him, my lungs screaming. Curse me and my curious mind. Always getting myself in trouble. Maybe it would be best if I just kept my mouth shut.

* * *

James' mind was reeling. How had she known those words? The dread that had filled him when he'd seen the ones she'd translated. The close spelling to the others. Was she working with HYDRA? Was it her plan all along to turn him back, hand him over? He hadn't heard those words in a long time, but he knew them. Still, to this day he knew the power they held over him. And it made him uneasy. He didn't like the idea of anyone else having those words. He wasn't sure who else knew them, and the thought made him worried. If HYDRA knew, then anyone could use them. Turn him back, make him kill again. He didn't want that to happen.

He had seen the terror in her eyes when he'd backed her up, but he was so mad. So hurt that she could possibly betray him at any moment, he hadn't cared. He had thought he was starting to heal, starting to get better. He was remembering things, bad things, but they were something. He didn't want it to all come undone now.

He could still hear her coughing behind him as they continued their journey. He'd had half a mind to just leave her, let her find her own way. But there was a part of him, something that couldn't do that. What if what she had said was true? She had asked him if he knew Russian, meaning there was a possibility she didn't know what they had meant. Or she had wanted him to read them, see if that would turn him back? Or read them out loud? See if that would work?

He had learned that about her, that she was curious. Too curious for her own good. It was her curiosity that had gotten her in this position in the first place. And now he couldn't trust her like he did before. He had grown soft. She'd wormed her way inside his heart, and he couldn't let that happen again. If she had been with HYDRA, she could have turned on him at any moment. Still could. He had let his walls down, and it could have gotten him killed. He wasn't going to make that mistake again.

* * *

"Are you sure there's anything here?" Sam asked as he flipped through the computer files.

It had taken the two quite a while to break in, hacking not exactly high on Sam's skill set. But a quick phone call with Natasha had cleared it up, making it so the two could go through Pierce's files. Steve knew he had to have something there. Something about Bucky, or HYDRA, or any place they could be hiding.

"Whoa." Sam said, double clicking on a video file.

Both men watched as the camera came on, the screen dark until a door was opened, revealing the bedroom they'd just been in. They watched as a girl, Steve recognized her as Pierce's daughter, was grabbed from behind by someone they quickly realized was Bucky. She was forced down on the bed, trying to plead with the person behind the camera.

_"He's not going to listen to you, sweetheart."_ Steve's stomach churned, dread filling him as he heard the familiar voice. _"He only listens to me."_

Steve's dread only grew as he listened to Rumlow talk, watching as Bucky moved so his back was to the camera. Rumlow pulled the girl up by her hair, making her look at Bucky. The terror on her face, the tears running down her cheeks made Steve's blood boil.

"That's enough." Steve said, turning away when the girl's sweatpants were ripped off by Bucky.

"Okay, what the hell?" Sam asked, rolling away from the computer in the desk chair. "What kind of father lets that happen, then keeps a copy on his computer?"

Steve didn't say anything, just stood facing the window. He'd been sick when he found out Rumlow was HYDRA, but this...this was a new level. The date had been before he'd seen her at SHIELD, and it made him wonder how long it went on before. And if it happened after too. Could he have done something? Could he have saved her then? It was all getting to be too much. And if Bucky had her, not knowing his mental state, would he do it again?

Steve turned around, facing Sam. "We need to find them. Both of them."


	28. Expected Complication

James didn’t say anything else on our hike to civilization. But I could see the tension in his shoulders. The way he carried himself. I didn’t say anything either, knowing I had messed up. So I just tried to keep up, and not fall. I knew I was going to have a bruise around my neck from where he’d choked me, meaning I’d have to figure out a way to hide it. Otherwise, people might get the wrong idea. Or they figure it out and we get caught. Neither would be good. 

We finally made it to civilization, James finding us an abandoned restaurant to camp in. There wasn’t any food left that was good in the fridge, or on the shelves. Most of it had gone bad weeks ago, which was horrible because I was starving. I sighed, setting up my makeshift bed in a corner, using my sweatshirt to lay on, and my backpack as a pillow. I knew he was only stopping for me. If it had just been him, he would have kept going. I could at least be grateful for that. 

“Stay here.” He said, pulling open the back door before leaving. 

I couldn’t fall asleep, but if you would have asked me, I would have said I was in a nightmare. Some horrible, twisted vision my subconscious created. But the worst part was...it was really happening. 

I had spaced out, staring at the wall as I waited for James to come back. I was lost in thought, and if I had actually been paying attention, I could have avoided the situation entirely. I didn’t even notice they had entered, until a glove covered hand slapped down on my face, covering my mouth. I screamed, struggling as I was pulled on my back, a knee pressing into my stomach. 

“Yeah, it’s them.” The man holding me said. “And she’s just as pretty as he described.” 

I nearly vomited as his free hand ran down my side, his knee moving so he could lift my shirt. 

“What are you doing?” The second man asked. 

“I’m gonna have some fun with her. He said she was a good one. You should relax. You wouldn’t be so uptight if you got laid every once in awhile.” 

I fought, tears springing up in my eyes as his hand grabbed at my chest. I groaned as he manhandled me, being none too gentle. I was reaching to my backpack, the knife James had given me was in the front pocket, but he seemed to know what I was doing, and grabbed my wrist in his hand. 

“There’ll be none of that. The better you behave, the quicker I can kill you.” I panicked even more then, kicking at him. “Feisty little thing, aren’t ya?” He leaned his arm across my sore chest, his elbow digging into my shoulder as he nearly tore my pants, slipping his hand in between my legs. 

I screamed against his hand before getting an idea. I bit down, making him cry out. He reached down as I opened my mouth to scream, punching me in the face. I laid there dazed for a moment, blood pooling in my mouth, gushing out of my nose. There were two of him as he kneeled on my stomach again, unbuckling his pants. I tried to hit him, scratch at him, but I felt like i was moving in slow motion. 

“Hey, will you pass me the-” He turned to ask his partner, but stopped when his partner was nowhere to be seen. “Shit.” He breathed, climbing off of me. “We’ll have to do this without the fun part first.” He said, pulling a gun from his belt, pointing it at me. “Sorry sweetheart.” 

He was grabbed from behind as the shot went off, hitting the wall right above where I was laying. I seemed to snap out of the daze I’d been in when he hit me as I watched James practically throw him across the room. James pulled out his gun, shooting the man straight in between the eyes. I watched, wide eyed and terrified. I felt like I was going to pass out as James turned back to me. 

“Get up. There’s more coming.” 

I couldn’t move though. I felt disgusting. My adrenaline was still pumping, fear rocking through my veins as I processed what had just happened. What had almost happened. 

Apparently I was taking too long, because James pulled me to my feet, wrapping my sweatshirt around me before grabbing my backpack and his. He wrapped my arm around his waist, yanking my hood over my head. 

“Keep your head down and move quickly.” He said, keeping his right hand on my head. 

My nose was still bleeding, the blood dripping down my front. I felt sick, like I was going to puke, but James kept dragging me, moving us through the streets. He saw a car parked in front of us, so he checked the area before leaning me against the hood. He picked the lock, opening the driver’s side door before reaching in and hotwiring it. 

“Get in.” He said, tossing our stuff in the back. 

I limped to the passenger seat, not even having the door shut before he was tearing away from the city, speeding down the desolate road. My breaths were shaky as I tried to calm myself down, but the tears and blood were still flowing. My stomach was in knots, and I felt like I was going to puke. A hand grabbed the back of my head, pushing it down between my knees. 

“Breathe.” James said, keeping his hand on the back of my head. It was a strange comfort to me. 

“Who were they?” I asked, trying to keep myself from vomiting. 

“Hitmen. They must have seen us when we got into town. They went after me at the store.” 

I knew he wanted to place blame on me. It was my fault they’d come after us. I had told them where we were heading because I somehow had a map of Eastern Europe memorized and knew exactly what our plan was and had told them ahead of time. And it was my fault I almost got raped and murdered. It was my fault why I was near passing out in the passenger seat of a stolen car, speeding down a desolate highway in Hungary. 

“Why did you save me?” I asked, gripping the car seat tightly in my hands. 

He didn’t say anything. If he thought it was my fault, then why did he bother saving me. He’d killed for me. He shot the man who was going to rape me, then murder me, right in the head. Point blank. No emotion whatsoever. I felt bile rise in my throat and I suddenly found my stomach emptying itself onto my shoes and the floor of the car. There wasn’t much to it since I had eaten very little. 

“We’re only a few miles from the next town.” James said, releasing my head. 

My breathing was still ragged, my nose plugged with blood, so I couldn’t smell the vomit. My face hurt, and my stomach and I felt like I was going to pass out as I watched the scenery fly by. 

I wasn’t sure entirely when we got to the next town, but my body jerked slightly as James came to a stop outside an abandoned-looking building. 

“Stay here.” James said, climbing out of the car. “If you see anyone, scream.” 

I couldn’t even nod before he left, going into the building. I sat there, waiting for him to come back out, counting the seconds by as I tried not to puke again. My face was now throbbing, a deep ache settled in my stomach. I was sure if I could cry anymore, I would be. I had almost been raped. Again. The man had touched me. Manhandled me like a piece of meat. Like I was nothing. Because I was nothing. I was a weak little girl, too curious for her own good, on the run with a brooding, dangerous assassin. My chest cried out in protest as I opened the door, spitting up stomach acid into the street. 

The car door opened and I jolted, turning around so fast my vision went dark for a moment. I had to steady myself, and by that time James was pulling me from the car, shoving my bag into my arms. He dragged me up the stairs and into the building, passing by door after door before he came to one that was open, pushing me inside. 

There was a small kitchen, and a table and chairs in the corner, along with a moth-eaten couch. James closed the door, the sound echoing in my ears. I stumbled over to the couch, plopping down on it as exhaustion swept over me.

“Hey.” James slapped my cheeks lightly, trying to bring me back. He was sitting in a chair in front of me, his jacket gone. “Stay with me. I gotta reset your nose.” 

He didn’t give me any warning as he shoved a piece of fabric in my mouth, before there was a crunch and pain shot through my head and into my brain. I screamed around the gag as blood poured from my nose again. James caught it with another piece of fabric, shoving a couple strips of toilet paper up my nostrils. He turned away, grabbing a bag of something before handing it to me. Ice. When did he get that? 

“When you were asleep.” I was asleep? When had I fallen asleep? And did I ask that out loud? I was losing it. “We’ll be safe here for tonight. Stay here and don’t move. I have go clean the vomit out of the car.” He said, getting up and leaving me on the couch. 

I looked around the room, not seeing his stuff anywhere. Was he going to leave me? Here, like this? Now? Was I on my own, injured and defenseless in a foreign country? 


	29. So Close

I was being touched. Hands everywhere, invading my privacy as I tried to get away, but they were coming from every angle. I screamed, begged for help as they slowly suffocated me. But one hand reached out and grabbed me, pulling me from the rest, lifting me above the mass of darkness below me. 

I jerked awake, a cold metal hand on my shoulder. I jumped away from James, squishing myself as far back on the couch as I could. He lowered his hand, standing up. 

“There’s warm water in the bathroom. Clean yourself up.” He said, before going to the corner where his bag was sitting. 

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes before stumbling half-drunkenly to the bathroom. There was a pot of water sitting on the counter below the dirty mirror. My face was bruised on the left side, and around my nose where it had been broken. There was in fact a handprint around my neck from where James had nearly choked me to death in the woods, and a mark across my chest where he’d held me against the tree. There was a round bruise on my stomach from where my almost rapist had held me down. My shirt had blood on it, and my jeans were stained with vomit. I’d need to get new clothes soon. We both would. 

I wiped the blood from my face before giving myself a sponge bath, taking time to wash my hair, get the vomit off the ends. I felt slightly better, but my skin was still crawling from where I’d been touched. I felt degraded again, everything Rumlow had done, everything he’d said came back to me. He really did break me. I was so broken I was forgetting what it felt like to be normal. I have forgotten what it feels like to be normal. 

I left the bathroom numb. This is what my life is now. On the run with an assassin that wants to kill me half the time, and ends up killing for me the other half. I sighed, grabbing clean clothes from my backpack before changing right there. It didn’t matter if he saw anything. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. I curled back up on the couch, staring at the stained ceiling. I was tired, but my mind was reeling. There were more of them out there, looking for us. Hell, they were probably in every country, and they knew we were in Hungary. I just hoped we could outrun them before they found us again. 

* * *

 

James was having just as hard a time as she was. She was silently walking behind him, keeping pace fairly well. But a storm was still brewing inside him. He had a hard time believing that she could possibly be HYDRA. After what they’d put her through, he doubted it was true. 

He found an abandoned restaurant for them to stay in for the night. He needed to stock up on some supplies he knew they’d need for the next few days. He told her to stay in the restaurant, before heading out, hoping she was safe there. He was halfway done shopping when the two men in black entered the store. He was the only other person inside besides the employees, and by the looks of them, they were trying to corner him. His hand gripped the gun tucked under his jacket, ready to attack when they did. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did rat him out. 

He didn’t want to kill the men, successfully knocking them out before fleeing the store. He ran back to the restaurant, ready to kill Olivia himself until he saw movement inside. He ducked down under the window, watching as one man scouted the entrance. He could hear a second man talking, something about behaving or he’d kill. The word feisty had his blood boiling and he waited for the right moment before slipping in the door, taking out the first man easily. He snuck to the back, watching as the other man had Olivia pinned, covering her mouth with one hand, the other shoved down her pants. 

Rage he hadn’t felt in a long time burned in him and he moved in the shadows, watching as the second man noticed his partner was gone, jumping on him right as he tried to shoot Olivia. The rage burned hot and he threw the man against the wall, raising the gun before firing, shooting the sick bastard in the head. 

Olivia was wide eyed when he turned back around, shaking and bleeding, but he didn’t have time for that. 

“Get up. There’s more coming.” He said, gathering their things. 

He knew Olivia probably wouldn’t move so he did it for her, tugging her sweatshirt on before dragging her from the restaurant. She was dead weight, barely moving on her own as he kept her head down, making sure no one saw them. 

He took the first car he found, wanting to get out as quickly as possible. Olivia was barely breathing, trembling in her seat as she bled down her shirt. She would pass out if she didn’t breathe so he shoved her head between her knees to try and calm her down. He kept his hand on her head, knowing if she sat up it wouldn’t be pretty. 

“Who were they?” Her voice was slightly slurred as she gripped the passenger seat tightly. 

“Hitmen.” He said. “They must have seen us when we got into town. They went after me at the store.”

He wanted to blame it on her. He really did, but he knew she wouldn’t go that far. Having him attacked was one thing, but he knew there was no acting there. It was real terror on her face, she really had been fighting the man, trying to keep herself from being raped again. And now he knew she was innocent in the whole thing. He still didn’t understand how she knew the words, or why she would dream of them like she claimed. That made him uneasy, but he couldn’t quite stay as mad at her. She’d been through hell, and she still wasn’t getting a break when she tried to escape it. 

“Why did you save me?” She asked, her voice muffled. 

He didn’t answer. The rage he’d felt when he saw what the man was doing to her, was going to do to her confused him. He’d so willingly shot a man in the head for her. He could have just knocked him out, then run, but he’d been touching her. He was trying to rape her. That made him no better than HYDRA. Even no better than James himself. 

The smell of vomit hit him as she emptied her stomach on the floor. He should have seen that one coming, and he moved his hand, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She hadn’t had much to eat, so there wasn’t much to the vomit, but that didn’t mean it didn’t smell bad. He cracked a window, trying to get some fresh air in, in case the smell made her vomit again. He’d passed a road sign, telling her they weren’t far from the next town. They’d have to stay there for the night, leave early to try and get to Romania quickly. It would take them another day to get to Romania, and if they were successful in their journey and went uninterrupted, they’d be in Bucharest in another day. Olivia didn’t look well, and he hated making her travel, but they were so close, he didn’t want to stop now. 

He found an abandoned apartment building, leaving Olivia in the car while he scanned the building, deeming it safe enough. She was puking on the street when he came back out, so he left her there, grabbing their stuff before dragging her inside. She stumbled into the room as he locked and secured the door. She’d fallen onto the couch, passing right out as he set up their camp for a moment. He needed to go to the store and get some supplies, so he left her there, unconscious. He was a little wary, but he needed to do it. 

The car smelled worse than it did before, something he’d need to take care of soon. He got the supplies they’d need, as well as a bag of ice, knowing she’d be sore from the punch she’d received. That, and he didn’t really feel like listening to her complain. He drove back, hiding the car before entering the building. It was warm in the city, something rather unusual for him. The only thing he ever felt was cold. He remembered being warm, but it had been a long time since he felt it. He would have liked to stay outside, but he had someone to take care of inside. 

He assessed her injuries while she was out, knowing she probably wouldn’t let him get that close to her when she was awake. Not in the state she was in. He stripped out of his jacket, pulling an old shirt from his backpack and the toilet paper. He’d need to reset her nose. That was the biggest injury he could see. He tore the shirt, slapping her cheeks lightly to try and wake her up. 

She was groggy as he shoved the strip of his shirt in her mouth before resetting her nose with a crack. She screamed around the gag, definitely awake now. Blood dripped out of her reset nose, and he shoved toilet paper up her nostrils to try and stop it. He turned and grabbed the makeshift icepack from where he’d set it beside him on the floor. 

“Ice? When did he get that?” She murmured, still slightly out of it. 

“While you were asleep.” He said. She didn’t say anything more as he made sure she was comfortable. “We’ll be safe here tonight. Stay here and don’t move. I have to go clean out the car.” 

He used a hose and a jug of water to clean the vomit from the passenger side. He left the windows down so it could air out that night, and be ready the next morning. They’d leave early, and hopefully get across the border by the end of the day. He’d carry her if he had to, he was so anxious to get somewhere safe. 

Safe. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. It was strange. He remembered things from a long time ago, but they felt like they happened recently. His brain was muddled, pieces, chunks missing from his memory. It hurt him, sometimes, trying to think back. His brain would ache from the strain of trying to reach lost memories. Then his arm would hurt and he’d give up. He missed Olivia’s constant need to talk. Sure, it got on his nerves, but it distracted him when he got like that. She’d been fairly quiet over the past few days, a lot of that his fault, and also hers for getting sick, but he missed having that small distraction. The kid was curious, asked a lot of questions and it kept him from going insane. 

He had thought about leaving her, she was safe here, she could get by on her own. She was smart. But as he watched her toss and turn on the couch while he waited for the water in the pot to boil, in the throes of a nightmare, face bruised, brow furrowed, he couldn’t. He couldn’t walk away. He needed her, even though he didn’t want to admit it. She was a reminder that he was human. That he wasn’t all programmed inside to follow orders. That he could take care of someone. Sure, he’d done a crappy job at it, but they were alive, mostly. He couldn’t just walk away from her. She deserved better than that. For all he knew she’d just follow him. She knew where he was going, and she’d wind up there too. She was a headstrong little thing, and he realized he wouldn’t trade her for anything at that moment, as he squatted down beside her to wake her so she could clean herself up. 


	30. Shot

I didn’t get much sleep that night, tossing and turning on the old couch. I was terrified someone else was going to find us, and we’d be toast. Though, I would have rather died in my sleep. Less painful, and I wouldn’t even know what happened to me. James didn’t seem to have the same problem, as he was out almost right away. I guess the stress of the past couple days finally caught up to him. But I was glad he was getting some rest. He deserved it after putting up with me for so long. 

I laid awake for a few hours, until I heard a shift in the room, my heart jumping in my chest as I froze. Had someone found us? I heard the movement again, and then a pained grunt. I scanned the room as best I could, no sign of anyone from the streetlight outside. There was another shift and the sound of something sliding across the floor. I sat up, looking to where James was leaning in the chair. His hands were gripping the table, nearly breaking it in half. He jerked, grunting again. 

I got up, walking slowly towards him. “James?” No answer. “James, wake up.” 

I reached out, my hand inches from his shoulder when I was pushed to the ground, James’ body covering mine. He stared down at me, eyes wild as his metal hand punched nearly through the floor. 

“You’re my mission.” He growled, raising his right fist. 

“No, please, no!” I screamed, but a gunshot sounded through the air, James reeling back slightly. 

It took a moment for everything to erupt into chaos, but suddenly more bullets were flying through the air, James holding up his metal arm to defend himself. I crawled across the floor, hiding behind the couch as James shot back at whoever was shooting at us. I kept my head down, curling up behind the couch as bullets rained through the air. My heart was pounding in my ears as everything seemed to move in slow motion. 

I screamed as a hand grabbed me, throwing me across the floor. I dodged the spray of bullets sent my way, rolling to my hands and knees. A boot came down on my back, pushing me onto my stomach. I felt the barrel of a gun against the back of my head, pressing my face into the dusty wood underneath me. 

“It’s nothing personal, sweetheart.” I heard a gruff voice say, and I waited for the shot. 

I probably wouldn’t feel it. Not through the head like that. But the shot never came. Instead, the gun was pulled from my head, a yell and a thump echoing through the room. I was pulled to my feet, my backpack shoved into my arms. 

“Olivia, run!” James yelled, shoving me towards the door. 

And I did. Right into the arms of another man. He pushed me down on the floor, my backpack breaking the fall for me. Something clattered under me, and I remembered the knife. I reached back as the man pulled a gun from his belt, pointing it at me. I swallowed nervously, terrified that this was going to be the end. 

“He upped the cost if we bring you in alive.” The man said to me, his accent thick. “But from what I’ve seen, I don’t want to have to deal with that.” 

“Yeah, well me neither.” I said, stabbing the knife into his leg. 

He yelled, cursing at me as I shoved past him, running through the door. If I could get somewhere with a crowd, I could hide easier. But what if they shot into the crowd? That could get people hurt. And I didn’t want that on my conscious. 

I was almost to the exit door when something jumped up and bit me. My leg gave out from under me, and I fell to the floor, my thigh burning. I tried to stand, but that wasn’t happening, so I resorted to crawling. Until a boot came down on my leg, making me scream in pain. I was flipped on my back, a whine leaving me as pain shot through my leg. A body knelt over mine, the barrel of a gun pressed against my forehead. 

“I’m really going to enjoy this.” The man I’d stabbed said. 

Tears fell down my cheeks as I waited for it to happen, but a metal hand shot out, grabbing the man off me. A crack rang through the air, and the man dropped dead. James didn’t hesitate, turning around to scoop me off the floor before running out the exit door. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my face against his metal shoulder as he ran, checking his tail every so often. I tried to ignore the pain in my leg as he ran, keeping my eyes glued to the area behind us. 

James ran out of town, not stopping until we were well out of town. 

He found an old barn, nothing in it but a lone chicken and a few mice. He scanned it with his eyes, before sitting me down down on a bench. I refused to let go of him, gripping his shirt tightly. I had almost died. I had been shot, and had almost died. Everything had happened so fast it barely felt real. 

“Where are you hurt?” I heard James ask me lightly, but I couldn’t speak. 

I heard him sigh before his hands were running over me, checking me over for wounds. I didn’t care that he was touching me. I didn’t care that I was terrified. I felt sick. I gripped James tighter, whimpering as his hand brushed over my leg. 

“Shit.” He breathed, looking at the blood staining his fingers. “You have to let go of me, doll.” He said, trying to pull away from me. “I need to stop the bleeding-” He cut off, pushing me away lightly before standing to his feet. 

I turned, watching as the barn door opened, an older man with a shotgun walking in. He spoke harshly in a different language, James reaching behind him with his metal arm, fingering the gun at his back. He spoke back to the old man, slowly and cautiously, glancing back at me a couple times. I watched as the old man looked between us before lowering his gun, saying something to James while gesturing with his head. James bent down, picking me up again before following him. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, leaning against James’ shoulder again. 

“We’re staying here tonight.” Was all he said as he walked out of the barn, following the man to a cute little farm house. 

 


	31. Talking

“Take your pants off.” I stood there frozen. “I’m not asking you to strip, but I need to get the bullet out of your leg.” I stared at him wide eyed. “Would you rather me, or someone you don’t know. Because those are your options.” 

I weighed them for a moment, before unbuttoning my jeans, sliding them down my legs, careful of my left thigh. I faced the mirror, bending over the sink so James could get to my wound. He knelt down behind me, and I stared at my face in the mirror. I was shaking with pain and terror, everything that had happened to us flashing through my mind. 

“This is going to hurt.” He said, holding my leg still with his left hand. 

I gripped the edge of the counter, biting my lip so hard it bled as I looked at my face in the mirror. I looked like an abuse victim. My nose and cheek were bruised, and my lip was split. There were dark circles under my eyes and my skin was paler than normal. My leg was burning and tears were falling from my eyes, tracing lines down my skin. The last time I’d been in this position with him, things had been different. I closed my eyes as the memories flashed through my head, Rumlow’s voice echoing in my ears. I hadn’t realized I’d been shaking until a metal hand touched my back. I jumped, my eyes flashing open. 

“I’m gonna stitch you up, so you gotta be still, doll.” James said quietly, wiping the blood from my leg. 

I tried to ignore the burning, ripping pain shooting through my leg. I watched my face in the mirror, the pathetic crybaby. Weak little Olivia who couldn’t even take a punch without acting like it was the end of the world. I was weak. Granted, I was comparing myself to an assassin who’d been tortured by HYDRA. Pain didn’t seem to phase him. Nothing seemed to phase him. 

“Try not to move it too much tonight.” He said, finishing wrapping the gauze around my leg. “We’re going to head out tomorrow. Get out of Hungary as fast as possible.” 

He stood, cleaning up the mess he’d made. I frowned, looking at him in the mirror. He turned to leave the bathroom, but I grabbed his arm. 

“James, you’re hurt.” I said, looking at the blood soaking through his navy blue shirt. 

“It’s nothing.” He said, shrugging. 

“No, it’s obviously something. You’re bleeding.” I grabbed the first aid kit from his hand. “Let me help you. You’ve helped me enough.” 

He sighed. “Fine. But I’m digging the bullet out.” 

He pulled both of his shirts over his head, revealing the muscle underneath. I couldn’t help but stare as he sat on the edge of the tub, grabbing the tweezers with his metal hand. There was so much power there. So much strength. I watched as he dug the bullet out, feeling faint for a moment, so I sat on the closed toilet lid. He dropped the bullet into my outstretched hand, and I threw it in the garbage can. I covered the wound with a piece of gauze, soaking up the blood that was pouring out of the hole. 

My eyes were drawn to his left arm though, well, more his shoulder. The scars that lined the skin where it met metal. It had to hurt. The arm seemed heavy, and I wasn’t sure how much of him was metal under the skin. I bit my lip, reaching towards them, but he quickly caught my wrist in his hand, careful not to squeeze it too hard. 

“Can you do stitches?” He asked and I nodded, grabbing the needle and thread from where he’d placed it in the first aid kit. 

I stitched him up, a blank look on his face. He seemed lost, just staring at the wall. 

“James?” I asked quietly. He seemed to come back to himself, turning to look at me. “Why are you so anxious to get to Romania?” 

He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember much. There’s a lot of blank spaces. Missing memories. A lot of them before HYDRA.” He shook his head. “Every time I close my eyes, the body count keeps getting higher.” He grabbed my wrist lightly with his metal hand, stilling my movements as I tied the stitches off. “I made a promise that I’d keep you from joining them. A promise to myself.” 

“Why? Why do you care so much about me? Why did you come back for me?” 

He avoided my gaze, looking to the bathroom floor. “I remember what I did to you. What I was forced to do. I remember hearing my handler talk about you. I wasn’t sure at first, why I went back for you. Why I’ve kept you with me.” He swallowed thickly, still refusing to look at me. “You’re the closest thing I have to remind myself that I’m still human.” He finally looked at me, the intense gaze of his silvery-blue eyes making me squirm inside. “That I’m not just a machine under all the HYDRA programming. I told you I would keep you safe, and I plan to.” 

Both of us jumped when a knock sounded on the door. The old woman said something, James answering back quickly. 

“Dinner’s ready.” He said, standing from his spot on the edge of the tub. “You should change.” He said, nudging my backpack towards me with his foot before he left the bathroom, tugging on his shirt. 

I sat there for a moment, breathing deeply before I pulled my last pair of semi-clean pants from my backpack, slipping them on before throwing the others away. We’d need to get new supplies somewhere, if we were going to make it to Romania. 

Dinner was refreshing. I hadn’t had a home cooked meal in a long time. James translated as much as he could as we made small talk with the couple that had taken us in for the night. James made up a story. We were travelling to see family in Eastern Europe and got caught up in a shootout in town. He didn’t give away too much detail, for both our safety, and theirs. I knew he was still weary, but after what had just happened to us, I was too. 

I slept well that night, my stomach full, somewhat clean and in a real bed. I forgot how much I missed it. James sat awake across the room from me, a distant look in his eyes. My mind was still reeling after what he’d confessed to me. That was why he’d kept me so long. If I were him, I would have ditched me long ago. But he’d kept me because I reminded him he was human, having someone to take care of. I was proof that he could take care of someone. That he wasn’t a lost cause. There was something under the metal armed HYDRA assassin after all. 

“James?” I whispered, knowing he’d hear me. “You can sleep.” I said, scooting over in the bed. “We’re safe here. I highly doubt they’ll come looking for us. The other’s didn’t.” 

I saw his jaw clench before he spoke. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said finally, his voice rough. “Every time I close my eyes-” 

“I know.” I said, sitting up. “You relive a nightmare that already happened.” I stared down at my hands. “I still see him, sometimes, in my sleep. Rumlow. Your handler. He’s there, taunting me. Torturing me...raping me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Sometimes it’s you. But I never see your face. You won’t let me. But no matter how much I scream, how much I fight, it doesn’t help. Nothing helps, but time. Time heals all wounds, to an extent. Things may not get easier, but you learn how to manage them.” It was silent between us for a moment. “But I don’t blame you. For the things you did. You were innocent. A puppet, used by HYDRA for their sick objectives. And I know you wouldn’t have raped me if you had known better. If you weren’t being controlled. It doesn’t mean things will be better between us, but I just wanted to tell you that things can get better still. Maybe some day.” 

He didn’t say anything, just continued to stare out the window, but I could see the wheels turning. So I laid back down, turning my back to him as I closed my eyes, falling into another nightmare. 


	32. Driving Through The Night

I had never been on a motorcycle before. The old couple we'd stayed with offered it to James, the old man saying he was going to sell it for parts anyways. It still ran, and that was all James needed. He hadn't said much to me since the night before, keeping his distance after our talk. Though, distance was hard to find on a motorcycle. But at least I didn't have to deal with awkward silences. Just the terrifying fact that if he wrecked, I would probably die. It took us about three hours to get to Romania, James taking as many back roads, and even sneaking on a private road to cross the border without any problem. He seemed to relax, being in Romania, one step closer to our goal.

He stopped in the nearest town, both of us getting supplies for the road. We had a long trip in front of us, and I knew James wasn't going to stop much. If he got his way, we'd be in Bucharest early tomorrow morning. I stopped as we passed a TV playing the news. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I could read the date.

"What is it?" James asked as he noticed I'd stopped.

"Nothing." I said, shaking my head. "It was just my birthday yesterday. Almost getting killed is one hell of a birthday present."

James didn't say anything, just looked down at the floor. I bit my lip, staring there as well as a beat passed between us.

"Did you get everything?" I asked quietly, still not looking up.

"Yeah." He said, turning and walking to the checkout.

I followed behind him, grabbing one of the bags as we walked out to the motorcycle. I shoved the one I was holding into my backpack as James shoved the other two into his. I waited for him to get on before I copied his movements, wrapping my arms around his middle. He pulled away from the store, driving out of town and off towards Bucharest.

I was right about him driving all the way there at once. It had to be past midnight. The only thing keeping me awake was the freezing cold air blowing in my face. And the fact that if I fell asleep, I could fall off the motorcycle and I'd be dead. Mountains were surrounding us, and I was grateful for the heavy jacket he'd gotten for me on one of our fuel stops. I mean, he was letting off body heat like a space heater, but the mountain air whipping over my head was still chilling me to my bones.

James didn't show any sign of stopping for the night as we got gas for probably the last time. I chugged an energy drink, trying to keep myself awake and on my feet.

"Come on, doll. We're almost there." James said, climbing back on the motorcycle.

"How much longer is 'almost?'" I asked, throwing the energy drink in the trash before climbing on behind him.

"An hour or so." He said, revving the engine before taking off.

Oh god I hoped he was right. I was starting to get sore, my wounded leg screaming from sitting on the back of a motorcycle all day. I buried my face in his shoulder, praying the hour would go by quickly, and we could get somewhere warm so I could sleep.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, there were lights shining in my face, and cars driving past us. I jerked, gripping James tighter as I took a deep breath. I hadn't fallen off the back of the motorcycle. I was fine. I was alive. We were in Bucharest and we were going to be safe. James pulled the motorcycle over, parking it on the street. I climbed off, gripping his metal shoulder as my leg almost gave out from under me.

"You okay?" He asked, steadying me.

"Yeah." I breathed, inhaling shakily as pain shot through me. "No."

"You probably tore your stitches." He said, moving me so he could climb off the motorcycle. "We're not far from the safe-house." He scanned the area. Thankfully there weren't many people out this late. "I'll fix it there."

He wrapped his arm around my waist, throwing mine around his shoulders as we walked down the sidewalk. Well, he walked, I kinda limped/dragged behind him. This was becoming a normal thing for us. Him dragging me along with him. Literally.

The building looked abandoned. That was the first thing that came to mind when I saw it. It was strategically placed though, and at least it wasn't rotting. James practically carried me up the steps, up and up and up. He finally stopped at a door, pulling a key from his pocket before opening it.

The inside was dirty, covered in a thick layer of dust, but it was decent sized. A small kitchen in the corner with a fridge, two other doors, that I assumed led out to a balcony. Plus another door which I assumed led to the bathroom. James flipped a switch, a light turning on. Electricity. Something else I had taken for granted.

"Electricity, running water. It's not much, but it's safe."

"You're sure?" I asked as he walked to the center of the room.

"Yes. For now. I'll get a new lock later. It needs a few updates too."

"Like furniture." I said, looking around the empty space. "And food."

"I'll see what I can find later." James said, clearing a space on the floor with an old shirt of mine. "It'll be home for a while."

He helped me sit on the floor before joining me, pulling the first aid kit from my backpack. I shimmied out of my pants, rolling over so I was laying on my stomach. James was gentle as he pulled the gauze from my wound.

"You didn't tear them." He said, feeling around the edges. "But they are a bit irritated. I'll pick up some ointment later." He said before tossing his backpack towards the wall. "Right now, you need to sleep."

"You're one to talk, Mister 'I-Haven't-Slept-In-Days." The look on his face made me shut up.

But nonetheless, he stretched out on the floor, leaning his head against his backpack. I shimmied back into my jeans before copying his movements, laying down next to him.

"It needs some serious TLC." I said, staring at the cracked ceiling. "But if you pick up some cleaning supplies, I can take a crack at getting it fixed up. At least to a point. You do maintenance and I'll do housekeeping." I murmured before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

James laid there for quite a while. Olivia had long fallen asleep mid sentence. He wasn't surprised, as she had fallen asleep on the motorcycle. He'd held on to her to keep her steady as he drove, not wanting to lose her when they were so close.

He was able to breathe a semi sigh of relief, being in the safe-house. Sure, it was old, dirty and hadn't been used in decades, but it was the start of something new for both of them. Something safe. Somewhere they could heal.

He'd need to replace the locks on the doors, and cover the windows. He'd need to get them a bed and at least a table. Maybe a couch. Make it seem normal. Plus Olivia would probably have an aneurysm if he slept on the floor. He'd need to replace faucets, check out the pipes, see if they still worked. He was amazed the light bulbs still worked. He'd need to get food and water. Maybe if Olivia was feeling up to it, he could send her to do that while he worked on securing the safe-house. The building was almost completely abandoned, but her father's money kept the lights on, and he'd ensured it would stay that way before they left D.C. Sure, he felt a little bad about keeping that much from her, but he hadn't found it important at the time.

He watched her sleep until the sun was rising, and he deemed it time to get up. He'd only laid down so she wouldn't complain at him. He wanted her to sleep, to get some rest. He tugged on a baseball cap, checking Olivia one last time before heading out to get the first round of supplies for their new home.


	33. Safe-House

I woke up when something was draped over me. I groaned, shifting slightly under the soft fabric. 

“Sorry, doll. Go back to sleep.” James whispered, tucking the blanket under me. “I’m gonna do some work around the safehouse. I’ll try to be quiet.” And I was asleep again. 

I woke up to hammering, and then a curse from the bathroom. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My backpack had been replaced by a pillow, and a heavy blanket had been tucked around me. The light was dimmer in the safehouse, as newspapers had been taped over the windows. There was a table sitting against the wall straight across from me. James came out of the bathroom, his eyes landing on me. 

“Hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?” 

“Yeah. Kinda.” I said, rubbing my face. 

He’d changed clothes, now sporting a black t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans, and a new pair of boots. He walked over to the table, grabbing the plastic bag that was sitting on it. 

“I picked up some clothes this morning.” He said, dropping the bag in my lap. “I got the hot water heater back up and running, and the pipes cleaned out if you want to shower. I’ve got a couple things you can do today.” 

“O-okay.” I said, looking through the bag as he went to the kitchen to put the hammer away. 

They were all dark colors, easy to blend in with. He got the basics, jeans, t-shirts, underwear, socks. I wondered how long I’d been out, and how he’d gotten so much done already. 

Taking a hot shower was such a relief. I must have just stood in there for a good thirty minutes soaking in the steam and hot water. I already had a list in my head of thing’s I’d need to get. Plus, whatever James had planned for me. 

I braided my wet hair as I left the bathroom, dumping my old clothes in the garbage bag by the door. James was standing in the kitchen, writing something down on a piece of paper. He glanced up at me as I neared before finishing off the list. 

“Can you go grocery shopping?” He asked, looking up at me while leaning on the counter. 

“By myself?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. 

“I don’t speak Romanian.” 

James sighed lightly. “You don’t have to. Not everyone just speaks Romanian in the city. You’ll be fine.” He pulled a beanie over my head. “Just play tourist. Don’t say too much, and keep everything ambiguous. If anyone looks at you funny, run. You’ll be fine.” He handed me my backpack. “I’ll be coming and going today, so if you leave again and I’m not here, just leave a note.” He said, sliding a notebook on the table.

I was nervous. It was the first time I’d been on my own in civilization since...since I ran away the first time. I hadn’t hardly been alone period since then. It was nerve wracking, every person that stared too long was a hitman coming after me. Every person that got too close had me shying away. I ended up having to duck in an alley a couple times to breathe, and calm my panic. 

There was a grocery store just down the street from the safe-house so I went there to get most of the items. Most of James’ list was non-perishable. Things that would keep for a long time. I grabbed a couple extra items, things I knew I would want. It wasn’t that hard, playing tourist. I mean, we kind of were. Well, I was. James had the freaky ability to speak any language he wanted, and he seemed at ease here. I was still adjusting, trying to make sense of a foreign country I knew very little about. The fact this was home now hadn’t quite hit yet. 

I passed a market on my way back, pausing when I saw a fruit vender. I scanned the items, thinking having at least something fresh would be a nice change. My eyes landed on some plums, and I thought back to something I’d read when I was still going to school. I bought a few, stuffing them into my full backpack before heading back to the safe-house. 

James was putting together a shelf when I walked in the door. I went to the kitchen, clearing off a space on the counter before unloading my backpack. I started putting food away, wiping down the cabinets as I went. 

“What are these?” James asked and I turned, watching him as he inspected a plum. 

“Plums. I got them for you. I, uh, read somewhere that they help improve memory. I thought, you’d done so much for me, I would-” 

I was cut off as he pulled me into a hug. I froze, my body stiffening. He was warm, and smelled nice. Clean. My heart was pounding, and I forgot how to breathe as he held me for a moment. It really wasn’t any different than those times he’d carried me, or the times he’d sat by me in bed to keep me warm. But those times he’d had no choice. I had to let him touch me. But now, he was doing it willingly. I knew it was supposed to be friendly. A thank you for thinking of him. But I couldn’t help the images that flashed through my head. The last time a man had touched me without my permission. 

* * *

 

James had been keeping himself busy. Olivia had slept until the afternoon, giving him time to clean things up a little, go to the store to get some supplies and a new lock. The first thing he wanted to fix was the bathroom. He knew Olivia would want a shower, and he did too. He grabbed some soap and towels on his way around the store. Things he hadn’t owned in a long time. He got a pillow and blanket for Olivia, thinking that would be better than a jacket and a backpack until he could get an actual mattress. 

Olivia was still out when he returned. He tore the tags off the blanket before moving over to her, slipping the pillow under her head, and wrapping the blanket around her. 

She stirred, groaning lightly as he tucked the blanket around her chin. 

“Sorry, doll. Go back to sleep.” He whispered. “I’m gonna do some work around the safehouse. I’ll try to be quiet.” 

She fell right back to sleep, not even moving as he covered the windows, or when he was moving the table from downstairs. It had been a trick, getting it inside, but he’d managed, setting it at just the right angle. Everything he put inside was set at the right angle. 

He went back to the store, picking up some new clothes for both of them. The only things they had were worn, stained and would draw attention. So he grabbed the basics, feeling a little sick at the fact he knew what sizes to get her. He felt like he was invading her privacy a little, but it had to be done.

He got the hot water heater back up and running, and the drains cleaned out. He’d showered, and nearly hammered a hole in the wall when he’d gotten the toilet working again. He heard a rustle outside the bathroom and knew he must have woken her. He felt bad, knowing she needed as much sleep as possible. 

He let her shower as he wrote his grocery list. He hadn’t had free will to buy food in a long time, so he was slightly stumped on what to get. He remembered some foods he liked, but most were just hazy memories without enough detail to really mean much. He knew she’d get some other things anyways, so he kept it short. Simple. He was a little nervous letting her go out by herself, but he knew they were safe. She wouldn’t have to go far, and she knew what to do if she got into trouble. She was smart. Curious, but smart. 

He gave her the list before letting her go, needing to do something with his hands to calm his nerves. So he went out as well, finding an old truck in the back alley behind the building. Surprisingly it still ran, which meant their lives got a whole lot easier for the time being. He went to the hardware store, getting a shelf he could put together, and he kept his eyes open for a bed. He’d need to get one before tonight so Olivia wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor again. 

She got back earlier than he expected, as he was still putting the shelf together. She unpacked her backpack, cleaning the shelves as she put food away. He finished the shelf, putting the screwdriver on the counter when he saw the fruit. He knew they were fruit, but he couldn’t place what they were exactly. 

“What are these?” He asked, holding it delicately in his hand. 

She turned, looking to the small purple fruit in his hand. “Plums. I got them for you. I, uh, read somewhere that they help improve memory.” 

He felt something rise inside him, nearly choking him at her words. She’d bought him something to help him with his memory. It was a simple gesture, but it still had him feeling strange. Was it happiness? Was that what was welling in his chest? 

“I thought, you’d done so much for me, I would-” 

He cut her off as he hugged her, not caring as she stiffened in his arms. She was small, barely reaching his shoulder, and skinny. Too skinny, he thought. He’d need to make sure she ate more. She’d waste away to nothing if she kept that up. The thing inside his chest only intensified as he held her, the only person in his life that cared at that moment. She was the only person in his life at that moment. He wasn’t sure what to call their relationship. They weren’t friends...but yet they were close in only ways they could understand. And some they couldn’t. 

He loosened his grip on her as she pushed against his chest, nearly tearing away from him. She wrapped her arms around herself, her breathing shaky. He hadn’t thought about that. He’d been so overcome by emotion he’d forgotten himself there. He felt guilt rise up in him as she seemed to get smaller, hunching in on herself as she tried to calm her breathing. 

_ Damn it, James.  _ He scolded himself, leaving the safe-house.  _ Things were going so well... _

 


	34. On The Edge

Olivia didn’t say a word after the incident. James had gone out to find a bed, bringing it back in the truck. He packed it up to their apartment, Olivia cleaning when he got in. The apartment smelled better, and the moth eaten curtains had been replaced. Things were starting to look better. Not quite as dreary. He dropped off the mattress before heading back out, knowing they’d need something to use besides a blanket. Sheets would be too much, so he settled for a sleeping bag. It would keep Olivia warm, and could easily be moved if the situation ever came to that. 

He hoped it wouldn’t. He had finally found someplace safe where he could lay low and work on his demons, as well as Olivia’s. He knew there were some she’d have to face on her own, but he wanted to help her as much as he could. She’d bought him plums to help him with his memories, she deserved something in return. He grabbed a stack of notebooks and pens, knowing she was bound to get bored, and this way, she could do something. 

Olivia was making dinner when he got back, heating chili up on the stove. She didn’t look at him as he set up their bed, but he could see her still shaking. Guilt filled him as he stared down at the floor. 

They ate in silence, Olivia sitting on the table, and James sitting on the mattress. The tension between them was heavy, both of their gazes on the floor. James did the dishes after they were finished eating while Olivia wrote something in one of the several notebooks James had bought. 

“You should get some sleep.” He said, tossing the leftover newspapers in the trashbag. 

“I don’t think I can.” She said quietly, her voice breaking. “I just hate that I have to be this way.” She furiously wiped away the tear falling down her face. “I can’t be normal anymore.” 

James felt like he was suffocating, the feeling in his chest making it hard to breathe. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he didn’t know how. He was lost on how to help her. 

“I’m so scared of everything.” She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “And I hate it.” The pen in her hand was shaking as she gripped it tightly. 

“I know.” He said quietly, reaching his hand slowly to pull the pen from her grasp. “I get scared too.” He closed the notebook, setting it on the table. “Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and it’s all been a dream. Find out I was frozen again, and I hadn’t escaped. And sometimes I’m scared that something will revert me back, and I won’t be able to pull myself out. I’ll be stuck as a merciless killing machine again. We won’t ever be normal again. The fear will always be there.” He slid his flesh hand into hers, and he was surprised when she squeezed it tightly. “But we can learn how to not let it control us.” 

“James, I want to talk about it.” She said, looking down at their hands. “What happened...between us.” 

“Not right now.” He said, shaking his head. “You’re tired. It’s been a long day.” He squeezed her hand before walking back to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

In truth, he was scared to talk about it. It was a demon between them, keeping a wall up. He knew he wasn’t totally at fault, his old handler...Rumlow, she’d called him, had a big part to play. The abuse she’d suffered at his hands was far greater than what he would wish on his worst enemies. And he hated that it had happened to someone so innocent in it all. But yet, it had been him first. He felt guilty because of that, that he had been the first, forced on her like an animal. And he hadn’t had a choice but to comply. He hadn’t known better. But that didn’t make it any easier on him. 

He knew if he ever found Rumlow again, he’d break his promise to himself and he’d kill the bastard. 

* * *

 

James had insisted that I sleep on the bed, even though I wasn’t really tired. I could hear him moving around, tinkering. After our little talk I could tell a storm was brewing inside him. He had energy he needed to get out. I heard a rustle and then he was walking past the bed, and out the door. I sighed, rolling on my back. I was just glad we’d made it 24 hours and hadn’t been shot at or almost killed. I’d gone outside by myself and come back fine and in one piece. We had running water and electricity. James had fixed up the apartment nicely. Who knew he was so handy? Though, I guess when you’ve got that much on your mind, it wasn’t hard to get lost in projects. 

Though, I didn’t understand why he didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Was he worried he’d lose himself? Worried he’d get mad and wind up hurting me? I knew he carried a lot of guilt and anger because of what happened. He blamed himself for the way I was, which wasn’t true. If anything, he was just as much of a victim as I was. He was forced to rape me. He didn’t have a choice. Rumlow had a choice, and he did it anyways. Rumlow was to blame. He put me through hell. Broke me over and over again. I don’t think I’m capable of murder, but if I ever saw him again, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. 

James was still gone when I woke up again. It was early morning, the sun not quite risen yet. I stumbled to the bathroom, glad to have one that worked again. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I padded to the kitchen. I stopped when I noticed one of the plums gone, a small smile forming on my face. I made myself some oatmeal, setting some aside for James if he wanted some when he came back. I opened the back door, stepping out onto the balcony. There was still a small nip to the air, not quite summer yet. The city was waking, cars driving by on the street below. Yeah, I could get used to this. 

* * *

 

**GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL, WASHINGTON D.C**

A lone figure lay in a hospital bed, bandages covering nearly every inch of their body. The healing process was slow, but sure. IV’s pumped drugs into the body, keeping the pain at bay, though that wasn’t a problem. The door opened, a figure dressed in black entering. He gulped at the sight in front of him, the figure even more daunting wrapped up like a mummy. 

“Our team found them, in Hungary.” The figure’s eyes moved to the man. “Sir.” 

_ Well then, where are they?  _ Was typed out painfully slowly on a screen. 

“They got away. The Asset took out most of the team. Ran, and took the girl with him. They were gone before backup could arrive.” 

_ Where did they go?  _

“We don’t know. But they aren’t in the country anymore. We found a group of hitmen that tried to overtake them not far from where we found them. Wherever they are, they’re moving fast.” 

_ Then why are you standing here telling me this? Tell everyone I’m tripling pay if they bring them both in alive. So I can watch his face as I tear down everything he thinks he’s built.  _

  
  



	35. Weeks Later

We’d been in Romania for almost a month now. It was early June and things between James and I were still tense. Sure, we got used to living with each other, spending time together that wasn’t forced. But there was still a wall between us, and most of that was my fault. Me and my stupid fears. Every time we’d get closer, I’d end up just pushing us apart again. Though, on the bright side, there hadn’t been one threat to our lives. No attack, or attempted murder. We’d been relatively at peace. Except for the argument about the bed. 

_ “You’re the woman, you should get the bed.”  _

_ “I’m half your size, which means I can curl up way easier than you can. You, sasquatch, are sleeping on the bed. Me, Hobbit, is sleeping on the couch.”  _

And I’d grabbed a blanket, curling up on the couch he’d brought up earlier that day. That was the end of that. Sure, the couch wasn’t comfortable, and James only slept every few days, but I at least felt better than when he was sleeping, he was comfortable.

He still wouldn’t let me talk about what happened. He kept putting it off, distracting me, or he’d just plain leave. It almost made me feel worse. I understood he was guilty, he felt like he was to blame, but it didn’t make me feel any better. 

All of my bruises and cuts had healed, the gunshot wound on the back of my leg nothing more than a scar now. James had a time taking the stitches out, getting me to stay still for that long while he pulled my skin off was fantastic. Well, he didn’t necessarily pull my skin off, but it sure felt like it. I’d taken the stitches out of his arm a couple weeks earlier, since apparently he healed faster. Lucky. So he had called it revenge. 

It was early in the morning and I was standing out on the balcony. The air was just the perfect temperature, not too hot, and not too cold. James was still asleep inside, and I didn’t want to wake him by moving around inside. I was hungry, but I could wait. I thought about how I was going to approach the subject again tonight. I really needed to talk things through, and he was the perfect candidate. Well, he was the only candidate. My notebook had only heard it at least a dozen times. 

James had taken to writing in notebooks as well. He wrote constantly, using different pens, highlighters, tab markers, sticky notes, even some pictures he got from magazines and newspapers. Most of them were of Captain America. Steve. His best friend. Or, who was his best friend. I didn’t push into that subject much knowing it was sensitive territory. One wrong word could send him over the edge, and I didn’t want to risk that. Not when things were starting to settle. Which is why I didn’t say anything when he dodged the conversation with my. 

“Hey.” 

I jumped when I heard his voice. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, standing in the doorway. 

“Hey.” I said back, moving closer to him. “Sleep well?” 

“As well as I could.” He said, glancing down at me before looking at the building across from us. Well, the roof of it anyways. “Beautiful day.” 

I hummed my agreement, silence falling between us for a moment. “Do you want to do something today?” I asked. “Like wander around the city? Take a sightseeing tour? Go to a museum?” 

I almost walked away with the look he was giving me. I almost ducked past him to go inside and bury myself in the couch. 

“Sure.” A small smile passed over his face. “I think a little fun would be good for us.” 

A big smile formed on my face and I followed him back into the apartment, grabbing clothes before heading to shower. 

James was eating a plum when I came out of the bathroom, flipping through a newspaper. I grabbed a banana and a bottle of water, throwing both in my backpack before sitting next to him on the couch. I picked at the sleeves of my jacket, waiting for him to finish. He always took time out of his day to eat a plum, after what I’d said about it helping to improve memory. It was like a ritual for him now, and I wasn’t about to interrupt it. He did that, and read the newspaper. He said it was to help him remember that he’s really here. He’s 70 years in the future, with barely any idea how he got here. I felt for him. I really did. 

We went out and went sightseeing, hiking around Bucharest. It felt good to get out, do something fun. Take time to ourselves and just relax and act like we’re normal. Not an ex-brainwashed-assassin who worked for an ex-Nazi terrorist organization who’s actually 90 years old and has a metal arm and his sidekick, the daughter of one of the members of the ex-Nazi terrorist organization,  who were both on the run from said ex-Nazi terrorist organization. Yeah, to everyone else who asked, we were just James and Olivia, brother and sister travelling Europe for the summer before I went away to college. It was simple and easy to remember. 

We spent the day out, getting lunch at a little cafe before heading back to the apartment. It was nice, spending time with him like that. No stress, no running for our lives. Sure he was still twitchy, especially in crowds, but I got him to crack a smile a couple times. That was a feat I could cross off my list. 

Things were starting to be smooth sailing, until I woke up one night because cold air was blowing on me. The balcony door was open, and James wasn’t in bed. I got up, grabbing the knife from under the couch before heading that way. 

“James?” I called, not hearing or seeing him anywhere. I didn’t hear or see anyone. 

I leaned over the edge of the balcony, half expecting him to be hanging by a thread over the edge. Not that I’d be able to help him all that much. He’d be on his own if that were the case. I frowned when I saw a figure jump across the alley to the building next door, the figure landing with a roll before standing up. What the hell? Was there someone else in the building? Was James somewhere downstairs fighting them off? Had they just tried to escape? I watched the figure climb over the edge of the building, dropping down onto a ledge before jumping to the ground, jogging across the street to our building. What the serious hell? 

I backed into the apartment, gripping the knife tightly as I quietly closed the door, not quite sure what I was going to do, or what I could do. I ducked down in the corner of the kitchen, the couch blocking my sight of the door. I waited there for what must have been a lifetime before the doorknob twisted and the door opened. The only light was coming from the bathroom, which James had insisted we keep on so I didn’t fall and hurt myself in the middle of the night if I got up. My eyes were adjusted to the darkness and I managed to make out James’ form as he entered, closing the door quietly behind him. 

I flipped on the light, making James turn, his eyes set, ready to attack. But I didn’t care. I was freaked out, and I wanted answers. 

“What was that? Was that you that I just watched jump onto the roof of a building? What the hell were you doing?” 

“Testing escape routes.” He said nonchalantly, shrugging at me. 

“Testing escape routes? For what?” 

“We’re safe here for now. But if things ever turned sour, then there has to be several options for us to get out. And that’s one of them.” 

“Yeah, but I can’t jump across a street to a building.” 

“Not unless I threw you.” 

“Throw me? You’re going to throw me?” 

“If there were men with guns inside the building and that was our only escape route, that or die, would you let me throw you?” 

I thought about it for a moment. He had a point. I sighed, placing the knife back in its spot as I dropped on the couch. “Just...don’t freak me out like that. Disappearing in the middle of the night, leaving doors open. You didn’t climb down there on the outside of the building, did you?” 

“No. I used the stairs like a normal person.” 

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped me. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep again, and neither was he, so we stayed awake, just staring at the ceiling, sharing a few words between us. I waited until things got quiet before I asked the burning question, the thing I had been waiting weeks to do. 

“James...can we talk...about what happened?” 

He turned his head, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Okay.” He said sitting up. “But under one condition. If things get ugly, I want you to run. And don’t come back.” 


	36. Discussing the Past, Part 1

“I know that when you came to get me, you were following orders, but...do you remember anything?” 

He was quiet for a moment, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t know any better. My handlers...your dad and Rumlow told me about you. I followed your trail, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. All I was told was to bring you back alive. They didn’t say anything about what state I had to bring you back in. Rumlow said to roughen you up a bit. That you wouldn’t come without a fight, but you weren’t any match for me. I didn’t think twice about hurting you.” I curled in on myself, wrapping my arms around my legs. “I still had some rational thought. To feed you, give you water. But everything else was just blank. I had to get you to the extraction point alive, and take out anyone that tried to stop me. That was all.” He swallowed thickly. “They wanted you to break.” 

It was silent between us for a beat. I could see the guilt, the pain behind his eyes as he stared at his outstretched legs. 

“By the end I was so tired of you, I just knocked you out. You were easier to transport that way. God, if I would have known...” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. 

“But you didn’t. You didn’t know any better.” I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “You were being controlled. Just following orders. I can’t blame you for that.” 

It was silent for a beat before he started again. “When I brought you back, handed you over to HYDRA, I’d been out of cryo too long. I had started to think again, like what always happened when I went too long without being wiped, or going back into cryo. I had...started to feel. It wasn’t much, but it was there. When Rumlow touched you...when your father smacked you...I felt...angry. I didn’t want them to hurt you. But they took me away. And when I heard you scream, I fought back. But they wiped me, and I couldn’t remember anything. I didn’t remember you.” 

“After they took you away, they had a doctor come look at me. Everything you did.” 

“What? What did I do?” 

I swallowed, looking into his pain filled eyes. “Broken ankle, separated shoulder, broken nose, multiple bruises and cuts, partial blindness in my right eye. I was malnourished, dehydrated. And most of all concussed.” He inhaled sharply, his hands closing into fists. “Rumlow questioned me afterwards. Wanted to know what I had read, what I knew about their plan. But I didn’t know hardly anything. He beat me around a little before he knocked me out. I woke up back at home in my bed. Nurse Rumlow there to help me. He was so...invasive. I mean, he took good care of me, but he had no shame. He insisted on feeding me himself. He had to help me to the bathroom. He was there all the time. When I got to the point I could move around decently by myself, he got more touchy-feely.” I shuddered slightly, the memories fresh in my mind. “Wanted to be close to me. That went on for a few weeks, but then...it happened.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I knew it was coming.” I shook my head, looking down at my feet. “I knew...but I didn’t think...” I swallowed my tears, wanting to get through it. “I knew it was you from the metal arm. But it was still a shock. But it was worse that Rumlow was there. He made me look at you. See you finally.” 

“I knew what was going to happen. Rumlow filled me in on that much before hand. He told me that was my mission, and I had to complete it.” He was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t...if I would have known I wouldn’t have...” His inhale was shaky. 

“Did you know...” I wiped the tears from my face, looking to my feet nervously. “Did you know that I was a virgin?” I asked slowly and quietly, scared of the reaction I was going to get. 

He ran his hand down his face, nearly shaking. He got to his feet, pacing a couple times before his fist collided with the wall, his metal arm whirring as he clenched his fist. I was sure if he was holding anything, it would have shattered into a million pieces. Like I was at that moment. 

“I’m going to kill him.” James breathed. “I’m going to find him and kill him.” 

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, curling up more, wishing I could sink into the couch. “I’m just glad it wasn’t Rumlow.” I said quietly. “He didn’t need those bragging rights.” 

“I heard it when you called me the Asset. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I didn’t know better. I heard your screams but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to hear them, so I let you bite my fingers. They took me back, wiped me again. I didn’t even remember it happening.” 

“I was so broken.” I said after a moment. “I hurt everywhere. I couldn’t walk, I had to drag myself to the shower. My dad acted like nothing was wrong. Brought me water and a sandwich. I could barely eat I felt so destroyed.” I shook my head, the tears falling freely now. “It was mocking me. Such an innocent sandwich and I wasn’t anymore. I was nothing, and it wasn’t even over yet.” I breathed for a second. “Rumlow came back. He tied me up, touched me. I tried to hit him, fight back, but he just choked me, tried to taunt me, but I already knew what was coming. I felt like I was being torn in half. I tried to look away, but he didn’t even grant me that. He told me it was my fault, and I believed him.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” It was so quiet, I almost missed it. “None of it was your fault.” 

“I passed out for a little bit, but when I came back he was still going. He hit me with his belt, using the metal end. I was cut up, bleeding. Bruised. You name it. He choked me with his belt. I felt so ruined. So dirty. He made me shower with him, cleaning me up. He even changed my sheets.” I laughed bitterly. “He stayed with me that night. I woke up sick, my body breaking down from the abuse. I woke up in the morning and he was raping me again. But that time, he touched me, and I couldn’t help it. I hated myself for it.” I scoffed. “I didn’t move for the entire day. He raped me again that night before passing out next to me. I was raw, torn open, bleeding. But there was nothing left...I was just empty. There was no Libby. Just Olivia.” I wiped the drying tears from my face. “They gave me a break for a couple days, before they took me back to you. When they made you rape me in front of them.” 

“I barely remembered that. I was in between wipes, in between missions and they just wanted to play. And so they made me rape you a second time. I thought I didn’t feel anything...until I saw you crying. I felt something then...something inside me for a moment. But I knew I couldn’t let it show. Not in front of them. So I had to finish, then they just left you, wiped me and I moved on, not remembering what I’d just done.” 

“I wish I was that lucky.” I said quietly. “What I would give not to remember.” I sniffed, wiping the tear that fell. “They left me for a long time. A guard came and got me, and they took me somewhere. They didn’t let me see. But they fixed me up. Restored my vision, stitched me up inside. No one would tell me anything though. Where I was, why I was there, why they’d fixed me up.” I shook my head, sighing. “Getting hurt was becoming so normal. Hurting was becoming normal. They took me to see my father after I was released from there. I saw Steve at SHIELD. In passing.” I saw the way he tensed when I said it. “We didn’t even say anything. I wanted to, but Rumlow was there, and I was scared. But I had started feeling something again. I had a dream a couple nights later. You were raping me, and those words were cut on my skin. I still don’t know what it means-” 

He punched the wall again, his breathing getting heavy. He was shaking, his metal hand clenched in a fist. 

“James?” I asked, slowly reaching for the knife again. “James...” 

He turned around, the look in his eyes dead. “I did this to you. I brought this on you.” He whispered, sinking to his knees. “If I hadn’t...I could have...” His hands threaded in his hair, tugging harshly at the strands. He looked like he was in pain. 

“James.” I said, kneeling in front of him. I should have done what he said. I should have run, but I didn’t. “James.” I said louder, trying to pull his hands from his hair. I bit my lip, not getting any response. I looked to the side, seeing one of his notebooks, a cut out from a magazine sticking out of the top. “Bucky?” 

His head snapped up, eyes trained on my face. I slowly coaxed his hands down to his sides, my hands moving to his face. 

“It’s not your fault. Okay? You’re a victim in this as much as I am. More than I am. You didn’t have any choice. Like when you killed all those people. You were just following orders. HYDRA is to blame. Rumlow is to blame. He’s the one that did this. He’s still doing this.” I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands slide between my fingers. “It’s his fault. It’s...it’s my dad’s fault.” 

It was silent for a while as we stared at each other. I kept running my fingers through his hair, watching as he visibly calmed. Mentally, though, he was still reeling. 

His hand reached up, grabbing my wrist, stilling my hand. “Why didn’t you run like I told you?” He asked, his eyes on the floor. “I could have hurt you again.” 

“Because I trust you not to. I don’t want to lose the one thing that’s keeping me safe.” 

 


	37. Discussing the Past, Part 2

James stared at me, eyes wide, full of emotion. We were inches apart, still kneeling on the floor of the apartment. His flesh had was wrapped around my wrist, both just hanging in the air between us. My other hand was still on his cheek, his stubble rough under my palm, but the skin of his cheek was strangely soft. It was such a contrast to his hard exterior. 

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him, leaning my head on his shoulder. Both of us froze, stiffening at my action. I was slightly surprised at myself, and I knew he was too. My heart was pounding and I could feel the panic starting to build. I exhaled shakily when he wrapped his arms around me, holding me. I closed my eyes, focusing on everything else but the demons rising inside me. 

He was warm, all except for the metal arm across my back. It was heavy...a sturdy weight. It made me feel strangely safe. He made me feel safe. I could hear his heart pumping under my ear, strong and steady. I focused on that, trying to match mine to his. Slow mine down. He smelled nice, like the soap he’d bought. Clean. I relaxed a little, realizing he wasn’t going to hurt me, my hands releasing his shirt I’d been gripping for dear life. 

I pulled away slowly, keeping my hands on his shoulders. His arms stayed around me as I sat back on my heels, afraid to look him in the eye. 

“I trust you, James. You’ve kept me safe this long. Sure we’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re still here. And you haven’t hurt me...and I know you won’t. It wasn’t your fault.” I finally looked up at him, his eyes shining. “You’re a victim in this, more so than me.” 

“Hey.” He whispered, cupping my chin with his flesh hand. “It wasn’t your fault either. You were wrongly accused, and mistreated because of it.” 

“I just hate being so scared.” I whispered, wiping a tear away with the back of my hand. 

“It’s okay to be scared. Everyone gets scared.” 

“But I can’t even fight my own demons. Let alone defend myself. I’m not a super soldier or an assassin.” 

“But you are strong. I’m sure plenty of women in your place wouldn’t be able to handle what you have. Most people would have given up a long time ago. Locked themselves away and stopped functioning. You made it halfway across the world in some of the worst conditions, and yet you’re still here. You fought off a man who tried to kill you. I put you through hell, and yet you made it out still kicking.” A small smile formed on his face. “You may not be physically strong, but you have a different kind of strength most people envy.” 

“I guess you’re right.” I said, looking at the floor. He had a point. 

I covered my mouth as a yawn escaped me. What time was it? It had to be early morning at least. Maybe later than that. But I was starting to feel it after the emotional dump I’d just gone through. 

James chuckled, pushing me towards the bed.. “Get some sleep, doll.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’ve got to much on my mind.” He pulled the sleeping bag up around me as I laid down. “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” He smoothed my hair down, offering my a small smile before standing, going into the kitchen. 

I buried my face in his pillow, taking in his scent, a small smile on my face. We’d come a long way over the past few hours. Talking about it did make me feel slightly better. It wasn’t all shoved down anymore. Maybe things were starting to get better. 

I woke up later that day, James curled up on the small couch with a notebook, furiously writing something down. I didn’t move, not wanting to distract him as he worked through his memories. His brow was furrowed, the corners of his mouth turned down as he wrote. It must have been a bad one. 

I waited until he was done writing before I sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He glanced at me, before going back to his notebook. 

“Sleep well?” 

“Yeah.” I said, stretching more as I stood up. “Bad memory?” 

“No...” He shook his head, the frown returning. “Just confusing.” 

“I’m going to go to the store. I want to get something that I think will help you.” 

I’d found it at an old bookstore a week ago. I had been perusing, looking for something to read when I laid eyes on it. It had to be fate, or some cruel trick as I picked it up, scanning over it. But when I flipped it open, I nearly squealed in delight. It was the real thing indeed. I thanked every deity I could think of as I held it. I had asked the shopkeeper to hold it for me, as I debated whether it was a good idea to get it. And after our little talk last night, I decided that maybe it was a good idea. 

The bell on the door rang as I walked in, the shopkeeper greeting me. He spoke broken English, but he recognized me nonetheless. He still had the book, and I eagerly paid for it, nearly running back to the apartment. James was on the couch still, eating a plum and reading over the notebook when I opened the door. I was slightly out of breath from running up the half a million steps, but I was so excited. 

James looked up when I entered, taking in my dishevelled appearance. “What’s after you?” He asked, sitting up straighter. 

“Nothing. But I have a surprise.” I said, setting my backpack on the table before pulling it out. “I found it at a bookstore a few days ago, and I thought it would be good for you.” I handed it to him, a big smile on my face. 

It was an old US History book. It was dirty, and slightly water stained, and about thirty years outdated, but it was something. I kneeled down in front of him as he studied the cover.

“I thought it would be good for you to learn some of the things that happened while you were under HYDRA, and I thought maybe it could help you make sense of some of your memories.” I shrugged as he flipped through some of the pages. 

He stopped on one, scanning it with his eyes before running his hand over the paper. He closed the book, setting it beside him before reaching down, pulling me into a hug. I stiffened for a second, my heart jumping, but I listened to his under my ear, trying to mimic it. I wrapped my arms around his back, holding him tightly. 

“Thank you, doll.” He whispered, leaning his head against mine. “Thank you so much. You’re way too good to me.” He pulled away and I could see the tears in his eyes. “But you need to eat.” He said, standing up. I hadn’t eaten anything yet. “I don’t need you wasting away on me.” He said, grabbing a clean pot before filling it with water. 

“I’m not going to waste away.” I said, grabbing a glass before filling it with milk. “I’ve lived off less. Like two candy bars in three days.” 

“That was a different time.” He said, stirring the oats in the pot. “Look at you. You’re skin and bone.” He said, scanning me. “If you turn sideways you’ll disappear.” I turned, shaking my head. “Oh no, where’d she go?” 

“You’re something else James.” I said, shaking my head, but I couldn’t help the smile that had formed on my face. Things were definitely looking better. 


	38. 32557038

I worked with James, going over history, everything he’d forgotten, and everything he didn’t know had happened. We spent weeks sitting on the couch, pouring over the books, and he always had a notebook to write things down in. Things got a little tense when we got to WWII and the part about Captain America, but he managed to get through it alright. But I did notice his nightmares got worse whenever he talked about his past. Before HYDRA. Before the war. 

One night things got really bad. I was having a hard time sleeping as it was, but James seemed to be worse off. He was tossing and turning, pained whimpers coming from the bed. I turned on my side, watching as he jerked around, breathing hard and sweating. I got out of bed, walking slowly to the kitchen to flip on the light. He didn’t wake up, just rolled on his side, his back facing me. I approached the bed slowly, knife in hand. 

“James?” I asked, staying a foot away from the mattress. He flinched, but didn’t move. “James?” I asked again, taking a step forward. 

I hesitated before sitting on the edge of the mattress. He still didn’t show any sign of waking, so I reached out for him, the knife gripped in my other hand. I didn’t want to stab him, but if he attacked me, that’s what he said I should do. He said he’d heal. He’d be fine. He felt better knowing I could defend myself if he ever lost it. I reached out, slowly, hesitantly, my fingers just inches from his metal shoulder when he flipped, grabbing my wrist with his flesh hand. His grip was firm, but not painful as he stared at me, his eyes dazed, but full of fear. 

“James?” I asked, my heart rate speeding up. “James? It’s okay. You’re with me, here in Romania. Your name is James Barnes-” 

“32557038.” He said automatically. “Sergeant...James Barnes...32557038.”

I swallowed thickly. “Bucky?” 

He seemed to come back to himself, the haziness of his eyes disappearing as they focused on me. His grip loosened on my wrist, one of the tears in his eyes sliding down his cheek. 

“Olivia?” He breathed, his voice cracking. 

“I’m here, James.” I said, smoothing his sweaty hair from his face.

I cupped his cheek, wiping the tear away. His hand covered mine, keeping it on his face as he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He released my hand, rolling over so his back was to me, curling in on himself. I sat there for a moment looking at him before I got up, tucking the sleeping bag around his shoulders before going to the kitchen to turn off the light. I stumbled back to the couch, grabbing the blanket while my eyes adjusted to the darkness again. I laid down on the mattress, curling against his sweaty back. I felt him tense, but he didn’t push me away as I leaned my head in between his shoulder blades. He was warm, and I knew I was going to get overheated, but I didn’t care. He was relaxing, his breathing evening out as we laid there. I wasn’t going to push him to talk about it. He never made me talk about my nightmares. Not unless I wanted to. So I just offered him as much comfort as I could give him, and it seemed to be working for the moment. 

* * *

 

James was having a horrible nightmare. He was stuck in the past, back when his unit had been taken captive by HYDRA during the war. When he’d been tortured the first time. Experimented on. He’d remembered the doctor. The little man with the round glasses. The pain. All he could think was his name, and the eight numbers keeping him sane. 

One of the doctors had reached for him, and he grabbed their hand, stopping them. They were blurry, his focus coming in and out. 

“James?” His name floated around him. “James, it’s okay...” They were speaking, but the words were muffled. “...name is James Barnes-” 

“32557038.” He said, his brain filling in automatically. “Sergeant...James Barnes...32557038.” 

“Bucky?” A voice said and he snapped back to himself, and he had half expected it to be Steve. 

But the blonde hair was lighter, the face rounder. More feminine. The body was the right size, but everything else was wrong. Unless Steve had been turned into a girl...but he knew her...

“Olivia?” He asked, his voice cracking. He was crying. He hadn’t cried in...he didn’t remember. 

“I’m here, James.” She said, her fingers running through his tangled, matted hair. It felt nice. 

She cupped his cheek, wiping away his tear and he realized it had been a dream. He wasn’t being tortured again. It had been over 70 years since that happened. So much had changed. So much had happened, and he’d missed it all. He lifted his hand, holding hers to his face while he tried to make sense of everything. They’d talked about what had happened. What he’d done...what HYDRA had done...she’d stayed when he told her to run. He didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved better. She didn’t need to be staying here with a guy like him. She deserved freedom. 

He released her hand, turning so his back was to her, not wanting to think anymore. He curled in on himself, wishing he could disappear. He felt her move, tucking the sleeping bag around him before shutting off the light, plunging the apartment into darkness again. He heard her stumble, searching in the darkness. The mattress dipped behind him and he felt her against his back, his body freezing as she curled against him, tucking her head against his back. 

He knew how much it took for her to do that. The last time she’d been in bed with him, she’d nearly had a panic attack. She was sick and in her delirium had held him like he was her lifeline. But when she’d slipped from her delirium for a moment, she’d treated him like the plague. Tearing away from him like she’d been burned. The terror on her face when he got close to her. They’d come so far from that. He’d seen the way she’d grown, overcoming her fear. And now she was sharing a bed willingly with a man that had raped her. Stolen her most precious gift. Taken without asking. He knew he’d done it before. Some girl...he couldn’t even remember her name. But she’d asked him to do it. They were gonna spend their life together. But he’d been in another girl’s bed a week later. 

But with Olivia there hadn’t been a question. He hadn’t asked. He’d taken her like an animal because her father had told him to. There had been no talk afterwards. No empty promise of a future. He’d left her, bleeding and sore without a care. He couldn't’ even tuck himself back into his pants. He hadn’t even taken his pants off. He’d done her so wrong, twice, and yet here she was. Curled against his back like a kitten. Willingly offering him comfort as he struggled with his demons, even though she had to be uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine her doing it if the situation had been different. She’d been treated wrong at the hands of bigger and stronger men, causing her fear and anguish. Breaking her. And yet, here she was, offering him comfort when he needed it. He took a deep breath in, calming his emotions as he relaxed, taking the comfort she offered, letting it lull him back to sleep. 


	39. Roles Reverse

Summer was over and winter was quickly approaching. James and I had grown closer, more comfortable with each other. He still wouldn’t tell me what he remembered, or about his nightmares, but I knew it wasn’t any of my business. Some people could manage without talking through things. I was beginning to believe James was one of those people. I started working part time at the little bookstore I’d gotten the history book from. I went in there so much, the owner offered me a job. I started picking up some basic Romanian along the way as well. I did a lot of sorting, organizing, cleaning. It was good for me, getting out of the apartment, and bringing in a small amount of money to add to James’ seemingly endless amount. I didn’t question that either. 

We’d also started sharing the bed. After the incident with the nightmare, he’d refused to let me sleep on the couch, so we’d compromised. He slept in the sleeping bag and I used the blanket. He’d fixed the radiator in case things got too cold, but I knew that wouldn’t be a problem. He was like a space heater. I usually woke up sweating he was so warm. Either that, or I’d had a nightmare. I still got them, but they were becoming fewer and fewer. James still got them as well, and they came with a vengeance. I’d learned the signs, my subconscious recognizing them, so I could either wake him up, or get out of his way. I’d gotten one too many bruises from his metal arm. I never told him, knowing that would set him back. And that was the last thing we needed. 

I was the one having the nightmare that night. Well, it was quickly turning into one. I was tied to a chair, James tied across from me. There was a man standing behind me, and I only knew that because he was speaking. He was reciting words in a different language...Russian I think. James was screaming, trying to break from his restraints, but nothing was working. The man finished, and James went still, his face blank. The man said something, and the restraints on James were taken off and he stood. He looked at me, his eyes empty as he grabbed me around the neck with his metal hand, choking the life out of me slowly. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even look at me. 

I jerked awake when a hand closed over my mouth, fingers digging into my cheek. A metal arm wrapped around my body, keeping my arms pinned to my sides as I struggled. Tears were pouring out of my eyes as warm breath hit my ear. 

“Don’t finish that.” Was whispered in my ear harshly. 

I went still, sobbing as I felt the body behind me shift, the memory of Rumlow and I in this position coming back, making me panic. My head was moved back, James’ face inches from mine. 

“Are you going to continue?” He asked and I was confused. Continue what? 

I shook my head, not quite sure entirely what he meant. My answer seemed to satisfy him and he released my mouth. My heart was still pounding, my breathing shaky. He released me and I shot off the bed, backing myself against the couch as I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking. My eyes didn’t leave James as he sat up, his eyes watching me as well. 

“I thought you said you didn’t know those words.” He said, his face set. 

“What words?” 

“The ones you were saying.” 

“W-I wasn’t...I was...” 

He sighed, staring down at his lap. “You were talking in your sleep.” 

I was silent as I stared down at my sock covered feet. The air was nippy outside the blankets. “What do those words mean?” His head snapped back to me. “I was dreaming. We were tied up in a room, and there was a man speaking in Russian. Reciting words, and you were trying to get out, but you couldn’t. When he finished, you were...blank. You started choking me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “And then I woke up.” 

“They’re codewords. When I was in Siberia, under HYDRA they used them to reset my training. Wipe me, and start over.” 

“I don’t know how I know them.” I breathed, still looking at my feet. 

“The hospital.” Was all James said. He pulled a file out from under the mattress, sliding it towards me. 

I took it with shaky hands, opening it up. Inside was a medical report. Mine. They’d fixed my eyesight, stitched me back together...inside, where I’d been torn. My heart nearly stopped when I read the next item on the list. My chest got tight, and I was shaking. I flipped the paper up, trying to read the one underneath, but it was in Russian. 

“They read the words to you every night. They drugged you so you’d sleep, and they read them to you then. They did it in surgery, every time you were unconscious. They’re always a step ahead.” He shook his head.

I traced my fingers over the words on the front page one more time, tears filling my eyes. I looked away, closing the file, sliding it back on the mattress. James took it, sliding it back into its spot. 

“How long...” My voice cracked and I couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“I didn’t read it until we got here.” 

I tangled my fingers in my hair, leaning my elbows on my knees as sobs wracked my body. I felt like screaming, crying, throwing things. James didn’t move as I cried, giving me space I didn’t know I wanted. 

* * *

 

James sat there, watching her cry. He felt bad, knowing what was in that file. What HYDRA had done. It made him sick. He had half a mind not to show her. She seemed so happy, but she deserved to know. And when he’d been startled from his sleep, hearing her muttering those words, he knew his chance was coming. He didn’t mean to wake her up like he did, but he didn’t have time to think up another plan. He could feel her panic, but he had to make sure she wasn’t going to keep reciting them when he let her go. 

He hadn’t meant to be so mean either, but he needed answers. And when she said she didn’t know, telling him about her dream, he knew he had his chance. The part of the dream where he’d been choking her made his insides turn a little, but he knew if he reverted back, that’s what would happen. Slow, painful death. 

He’d pulled the file from under the mattress, preparing himself for what he knew was coming. He told her the part in Russian, knowing she couldn’t read that much. He felt bad for the way he’d treated her in the woods, knowing it wasn’t her fault. He felt bad about a lot of things. But he felt even worse when he saw the hurt on her face, the pain as she tangled her hands in her hair, breaking down. 

He wasn’t sure whether to comfort her, or to stay where he was. He figured the latter would be best, not knowing what she’d do if he touched her at this point. She’d made such great progress, more than he had, but at this point...he wasn’t sure. 


	40. Where Did You Learn That?

I was numb. Even at work I was missing the happy bounce in my step that had started to return. I had actually thought maybe things were getting better. I was numbly reshelving books, filling holes where books were missing. But I couldn’t fill the hole that was inside me. After reading what HYDRA had done...what James had kept from me for months...I just couldn’t bring myself to even smile anymore. 

I think it hurt more that James had kept that from me. He’d said he wanted me to have a shot at a normal life again. To try and be happy and heal. Because throwing that on top of everything else weighing me down would have just been worse. It might have been the end of Olivia as well. I would just be nothing, sitting in the apartment on the couch, being spoon fed by James to keep me alive. No hope of ever recovering. An empty shell with no prospect of becoming something again. I would be a liability to James. More so than I was now. At least now I could still fight off an attack. If I wanted to. 

“Go home, Olivia.” The bookstore owner told me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t look so well. Take an early weekend.” If he felt my flinch, he didn’t show any sign of it. 

“Thank you.” I said quietly, shelving the book in my hand before gathering my things and leaving. 

The walk back to the apartment seemed to take days. Everything around me was moving, but I was stuck. I didn’t pay attention to much, just focusing straight ahead of me, and hoping I got back in one piece. I stared up at the never ending staircase of the apartment from the bottom, sighing before taking it one step at a time. At this rate, I’d get there by nightfall. 

Actually, it took me about fifteen minutes. James was gone, probably out doing whatever it was he did during the day. I wasn’t entirely sure. I hadn’t ever asked. I figured it was his business, and he’d tell me if he wanted to. 

I dropped my backpack on the floor before curling up on the couch. I buried my face in the crook of my elbow, letting the tears fall. I’d been doing a lot of crying over the past couple days, and I was tired of it, but I couldn’t stop. HYDRA truly had broken me, and they weren’t even going to tell me that much. If they really wanted to break me, all they would have had to do was tell me about that. It would have worked so well. 

I didn’t know I’d fallen asleep until a hand was shaking me. I jumped, turning to see James kneeling by the couch. 

“Hey. I made dinner.” 

“I’m not hungry.” I said, trying to turn, but his grip on my arm tightened, stopping me. 

“No. Olivia, you need to eat. Okay? You’re not going to do this.” He cupped my cheek, making it so I couldn’t turn away. “It hurts. It’s terrible that they stooped that low. I get it. But you’ve gotta take care of yourself, doll. You can’t just shut down when things get horrible. Sometimes you have to just push it back and keep going. I know. I do it every morning. No, it won’t be easy, and it won’t get better, but you’ll learn to deal with it.” His thumb stroked my cheek. “It’s not fair that you had to go through this. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. But...” He sighed. “They would have killed you regardless. HYDRA wouldn’t care about something like that. They would have tortured you and wouldn’t bat an eye. What would you have done? You couldn’t have gone on the run like that. And they would have found you regardless and killed you still. There’s always hope for the future, Olivia. It doesn’t mean it’s the end.” 

I soaked in his words for a while. He had a point. It had almost been better that it had happened like that. If I would have found out, then something happened...I would have been in even worse shape. And he was right, it wasn’t the end of the world. I mean, it felt like it, but there were still other chances. Other options. 

“Would you ever consider...with...me?” 

James chuckled lightly, shaking his head before looking me in the eye. “Neither of us are in a place to handle that right now, doll.” 

“James?” I caught his hand before he got up. “Why do you call me doll?” 

“I...” He frowned at the floor for a moment before looking back up at me. “I don’t know. I guess...that’s what we used to call girls way back when, and it fits you. You’re the only girl in my life,” He shrugged. “It’s kind of a reminder of the way things used to be.” I could see his cheeks getting a little pink. “And you’re pretty special too.” 

“Well,” I lifted my hand to the one that was on my cheek, lacing our fingers together. “You’re my best guy, James. And I’m not going to complain if you’re sweet on me.” 

A smile broke out on his face. “Where’d you learn that?” 

I shrugged. “I work in a bookstore. And I’m pretty sure I saw it in a movie somewhere.” 

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Well, you’re my best girl, doll. Now come on.” He stood, offering me his hands. “Let’s get some dinner. 

Things seemed to go back to normal after that, Winter coming in strong. It got cold and windy, the humidity doing nothing for my hair. I usually woke up, soaked in sweat from the personal heater James, and his need to have the radiator on. But I wasn’t going to complain about that, since the last time he’d woke up cold, he nearly punched through the wall. So I would suffer heatstroke so he could be comfortable. I’d taken to sleeping in shorts and a tanktop, with the blanket thrown over me. 

Sometimes I’d wake up curled against James’ back, my arm thrown over him. Sometimes we’d be back to back, or facing each other. Other times I’d wake up with him curled against me, sometimes his arm would be thrown over my waist. That usually only happened when I was having a nightmare. We had a system down, and we’d do it almost unconsciously now. 

He still called me doll, which made me blush a little now. Before, I thought it had just been a slip of his old self coming through, but now that I knew the implications, and he was doing it consciously, I couldn’t help the feelings that stirred. We teased each other, laughing more as we worked around each other. He still ate his plum in the morning, and whether it helped or not I wasn’t sure. He’d filled three notebooks so far with memories. I hadn’t touched them, knowing they were private, and if he wanted to share, he would. That was something else I was working on. 

I’d shared practically everything about me. My life when I was younger, my sister, life with my dad, everything before HYDRA, and everything after. I knew a little about him from both history and the Smithsonian, but there was still so much to him. So much no one else knew, but him. And maybe Steve Rogers. 

I’d offered that as well. I told him he could go back to America. Find the Avengers. Tony Stark had a Tower in New York, and I was sure Steve was somewhere around there. I tried to convince him that Steve could help. Bring up some old memories, help him through the healing process. I thought it would be nice to have his old friend by his side again. But James had refused. And I only got one answer as to why. 

“Because they’d take you away from me, doll.” 

 


	41. Victim

“Life was simpler back then. Or, at least it feels that way now. I grew up in Brooklyn with my parents, and a little brother and two little sisters. I met Steve not long after starting school, after I saved him from bullies trying to steal his lunch money.” 

“People actually did that?” I asked, looking up at him. 

“Yeah. It doesn’t sound like such a big deal now, but back then it was almost as bad as starting a fight in school.” He sighed. “I was a ladies man. Had all the dames falling over me. Took a few of them home, but nothing ever came from it.” 

“James Barnes, you player.” I smacked his arm lightly. 

He just laughed. “Steve wasn’t so lucky. He wasn’t very tall, and he was skinny. I was always scared he’d break when he stubbed his toe. But the kid could take a punch and get back up. We were best friends.” 

“‘Till the end of the line’ right?” I asked. 

“How did you know that?” 

“You mutter it in your sleep sometimes.” I shrugged. “You mutter a lot, but most of it’s in Russian. And I’ve picked up Romanian pretty well, but I’m still clueless with Russian. So I’m not help there.”

“Sometimes I don’t want to remember what happens in my sleep.” He shook his head, flipping another page in his notebook. “I remember getting drafted...being on the front lines when a tank like I’d never seen rolled up. Our entire unit was taken prisoner. We were sent to work at a weapons facility. My first interaction with HYDRA. We were beat, forced to work for hours on end.” He turned a page in his notebook, and I could feel him tense. “They took me to a lab, and did experiments on me. Ran tests, injected me with things. I don’t even remember how long we were there.”

“But then Steve came, right? Freed you and the other prisoners from HYDRA.” 

“Yeah. Read that in a history book?” 

“And had several discussions on whether he was right to do it or not. And then the Howling Commandos were formed.” 

“Yeah. Hell if I can remember who came up with that name.” James shook his head. “We took out HYDRA base after HYDRA base until I fell.” He swallowed thickly, his grip on the notebook tightening. “I remember being cold...the Soviets found me. I’d lost my arm, but I was alive. They turned me over to HYDRA again, and kept me prisoner until the doctor...the one who’d experimented on me the first time came back. Experimented on me...built me this.” He said, moving his left arm. 

I took it, laying it across my lap as I moved my fingers over the metal plates. I knew what he was capable of doing with it...how much strength was behind it. It truly was an incredible work of technology. 

“They experimented further, trying to use mind control. They did it so much I forgot everything. I was nothing more than a weapon. They froze me after every mission, but I still dreamed. I remembered things, who I’d killed, what I’d done. But they’d wipe me right after they unfroze me. Keep me from feeling. They called me the Winter Soldier. I don’t remember who started it, but they started calling me that. Or just Soldier.” 

“Do you remember...all of the people you killed?” 

“I remember some. Every time I get a memory it seems like the body count keeps getting higher. I don’t want to remember sometimes, but other times, I want to know. Confess my sins and all that.” He shook his head. “I was under Soviet control for a while, and they implanted the code words into my head. They...they made me...” 

I took his metal hand in mine, squeezing it, though he probably didn’t feel it. “It’s okay.” I said, wrapping my other arm around his shoulders. “You don’t have to tell me everything right now.” 

“I thought it was just a nightmare.” He shook his head, looking down. “But then I dreamed it again, and I knew it had really happened.” He was silent for a moment. “I killed Howard Stark.” 

“What? N-no, they died in a car crash...” 

“I staged it. Shot out their tires. They were carrying something HYDRA needed. I killed them both, made it look like an accident.” He shook his head, his voice cracking. “I murdered them.” 

I just managed to slip my hand from his, before it closed into a fist, which would have surely broken my hand. “James.” I said calmly, shifting on the couch so I was kneeling next to him. “James, look at me.” 

He was shaking, his fists clenched, his metal arm whirring as plates shifted right in front of me. Things were going to get ugly if I didn’t do something quick. I moved his arm, straddling his lap so I could cup his face. 

“Bucky.” I said, cupping his cheeks, trying to get him to open his eyes. “Bucky, look at me.” They finally opened, the blue flecks in the grey of his eyes visible with how close we were. There were tears building up, ready to fall. “It wasn’t you. You were being controlled. I know you. The real you. And you wouldn’t have ever done it, had you been given a choice. But you didn’t have a choice. You didn’t know better.” 

He leaned forward, his head resting in the crook of my neck, his arms wrapping around me. I held him tightly as he cried, running my fingers through his hair. I didn’t blame him. He didn’t have a choice in the matter. That was the Winter Soldier. A mindless HYDRA assassin who was being controlled. This was James Barnes. A victim, a prisoner of war who was subjected to horrors no one could imagine. I knew he knew that as well, but he still felt guilty. Like he had some fault in it because he carried out the orders anyways, even if he didn’t know better. But I’d seen a different side of him. A caring side. He was capable of feeling. The fact that he was crying into my shoulder, getting my hair and my tank top damp was proof. 

I didn’t move until he calmed down, knowing he deserved as much comfort as he offered me. He kept his head there, breathing against my skin, trying to steady himself again. I kept running my fingers through his hair, enjoying the way the soft strands slid through my fingers. In all honesty, I could have stayed like that for a long time. But he eventually moved, sitting up straight again, wiping his face with his hand. 

“You okay?” I asked, looking at him. “Given the situation?” 

“Yeah.” He sniffed, staring down at me. 

“You know it’s not your fault.” I said, cupping his cheeks. “I don’t blame you. Sure, some people might, but they can go shove a big, fat-” 

James shoved a cookie in my mouth, cutting off my sentence. “That’s not very ladylike.” 

I took a bite from the cookie. “Do I look very ladylike to you?” 

“No.” He said, cupping my cheeks, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Not really. Women are so different now.” He shook his head. “But none less terrifying. If anything, you’re more terrifying.” 

“Well, times change.” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

He tugged me down so my head was leaning against his shoulder, his arms wrapping loosely around me. I yawned, snuggling closer to James’ warmth. I relaxed back against the couch, his arms tightening just slightly around me as I drifted off to sleep. 


	42. Christmas Special

It was Christmas Eve and I was excited. James hadn’t really taken to decorating, but I had put up a couple stockings I’d bought at the store. I’d also bought him a present that I thought he would like. Neither of us were really feeling a big Christmas dinner, so I’d made ham, mashed potatoes and a salad. I’d baked some sugar cookies, making him decorate a few of them with me. Who knew James Barnes was good at decorating cookies? He enjoyed it, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

We both sat on the couch, my head leaning on his arm as we listened to the quiet world outside. Most everyone was off the streets now, at home with their families. And I was with mine. 

“I’m sorry this isn’t like a normal Christmas.” James said, looking down at his glass of eggnog. 

“What do you mean?” I asked, sitting up slightly. 

“We don’t have a tree, or lights, or music. Not really Christmasy.” 

“Well we don’t have to be. Christmas isn’t just about decorations and food and doing last minute shopping with the other crazy people. It’s about being with the ones you love. Spending time together. And I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, doing anything else. We don’t need a tree, or lights or music to have Christmas. This is more than enough for me.” 

James wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I curled up against him, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you think that. And I’m glad you’re here with me.” 

I smiled as we drifted off into silence once more, just enjoying being with each other. 

We slept in Christmas Day, not waking until the sun was shining in through the newspaper covered windows. I was leaning against James’ back, my arm thrown over his waist. I nuzzled in closer, tucking myself completely against him as he shifted, waking up. 

“Merry Christmas, James.” I whispered. 

“Merry Christmas, doll.” He said, voice rough with sleep. He took my hand in his, lifting it to press a kiss to my knuckles. 

I hummed, relaxing again. “Can we stay here all day?” 

“Maybe after we get some breakfast.” He said, still holding my hand. 

“I was gonna make soup with the leftover ham.” 

“Split pea soup?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Steve’s mom used to make it. Or a version of it. Best split pea soup ever.” 

“You haven’t tasted mine.” I said, leaning up to kiss the side of his head. 

“Hmm. We’ll see.” He said, before sitting up, stretching his arms over his head. 

He got up and went to the bathroom while I started on breakfast. I was anxious to give him his present as I scrambled eggs, and flipped the bacon. James grabbed one of his plums when he got out of the bathroom, plopping down on the couch with it as I finished up breakfast. I handed him a plate as I sat next to him, both of us eating in relative silence. 

“Don’t be mad, but I got you a present.” I said after we’d finished. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said, looking at me. 

“I know...but I wanted to.” I said, getting up to grab the wrapped present from my backpack. 

I handed it to him, and watched as he tore the paper off. It was a horrible wrapping job, but it was the best I could do. Wrapping wasn’t my forte. 

“The Great Gatsby? The Wonderful Wizard of Oz? All Quiet on the Western Front? The Hobbit?” He read off the titles. 

“I know you don’t read much, but I thought maybe having something from the past could help you.” 

He pulled me into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “Thank you, doll. I remember reading these way back when.” He turned, smiling at me. “I got you something too.” He said, reaching into his pocket. 

He handed me the small wrapped box. His wrapping job made me feel slightly better about mine, but I gave him point for effort. I opened the velvet box, gasping lightly at what was inside. 

“Oh, James, it’s beautiful.” It was a necklace, a simple silver chain with a teardrop diamond in the middle. 

“It reminded me of one my ‘Ma had. It was her most precious possession. She loved it more than her wedding ring. I saw it and I knew I had to get it for you.” 

I smiled at him, blinking back the tears. “Help me put it on.” I said, taking it from the box. 

I held my hair out of the way as he clasped the necklace behind my neck, his fingers trailing lightly over the back of my neck, making me shiver slightly. I turned, looking up at him. 

“How does it look?” 

“Beautiful.” He cupped my chin, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Just like you.” 

I blushed, looking down at my lap. He sure was being awfully sweet on me. 

*****

James knew he was being sweet on her. After what had happened over the past couple weeks, he felt he needed to do it. She’d been through hell, and deserved so much more. So he’d spoiled her. He sat on the couch, reading through The Great Gatsby while she worked in the kitchen, putting their soup together. His heart was still fluttering a little. The way she’d blushed when he’d called her beautiful. The soft skin on the back of her neck...how it had felt under his rough fingers. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he tried to concentrate on the book in his hand. 

He couldn’t deny he was starting to grow something...some feeling towards her. When she’d asked him if he’d ever...with her...he knew he was a gonner. He wanted to scream yes, but he knew they weren’t in a place for that right now. She’d been through so much, he didn’t want to risk pushing her away by moving too fast. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. Maybe it was just the Christmas spirit, and the fact she’d done something so sweet for him that had him feeling this way. He sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him as she sat down next to him, curling up with her own book. 

“What are you reading?” He asked, looking over at her. 

“Pride and Prejudice.” 

“I remember my youngest sister reading that. In school. She kept going on and on about it.” 

“Well, it is a good book.” Olivia shrugged. 

“Hey Olivia? Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.” She put her book aside. 

“Did anyone ever call you Olive?” 

She laughed. “My sister did. When she was annoyed with me. Why?” 

“Just curious. I remember a neighbor girl named Olivia. The fellas used to call her little Olive.” 

“Mine was always Libby. My dad coined that one. I don’t know why...but it stuck.” She shrugged. “But you could call me Olive if you want. It won’t upset me.” 

“I’ll try to remember than when you annoy me.” 

“Hey...I don’t annoy you, do I?” 

“Never. I actually enjoy your incessant need to talk. Keeps me out of my own head.” 

“Thank...you? I think?” 

“I was being serious. I don’t mind listening to you. You keep me entertained.” 

*****

The next week went by quickly, New Year’s Eve approaching. James and I were sitting out on the balcony, watching the fireworks, counting down to the new year. I was excited, feeling like I could start off fresh. Forget everything that had happened over the last year, and wipe my slate clean. I looked over to James as the timer counted down the last minute. He looked so handsome then, the fireworks lighting up his face. He turned to look at me, eyes shining as the last few seconds counted down. His hair framed his face, curling slightly at the ends. He was beautiful. All hard muscle and power. I bit my lip, tracing his face with my eyes before I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his as the timer hit 1. 

It was short, quick, but I couldn’t help but feel a shiver shoot all the way down to my toes. My lips were tingling as I pulled away. He was shocked, his eyes wide, lips still slightly parted as he looked at me. I felt my stomach drop, the reality of what I’d just done hitting me. 

“I...I’m sorry...I don’t know why I did that.” I said before getting up and rushing inside, my face burning, humiliation hitting me over the head. 

What had I done? 


	43. Happy New Year's Indeed

James’ lips were tingling as he watched Olivia rush back into the apartment. It had taken him by surprise, not expecting her to kiss him. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the shiver that had ran down his spine. He’d turned to look at her in the light of the fireworks, and found her staring at him. Her face was illuminated by the light, her eyes shining. Her hair fell around her in waves from where she’d had it braided, like a golden halo. He couldn’t ignore it as she bit her lip, something stirring inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Then she’d kissed him. Just like that. Her lips were soft, and tasted like the chocolate she’d eaten earlier. He’d kissed many girls on New Year’s Eve, but none of them had been like that. He hadn’t ever been as close to them, as he was to her. They had a bond. Something he had only shared with one other person in his life. He found himself running his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting her still. He got up, walking into the dark apartment, his trained eyes making out her form on the couch. She was curled up, the blanket thrown over her head. He figured he should leave her be for now, and got ready for bed. 

He heard her get up, her sniffle loud in his ears as she stumbled to the bathroom, tripping over the edge of the bed. He was facing the wall, closing his eyes as the door opened, light shining through. She shuffled back to the couch, curling up under the blanket. She sighed as she got comfortable, and he waited for her breathing to even out again. He was still tingling a little from the kiss, his heart skipping a beat occasionally, when he thought of how soft her lips had been. How gentle the kiss was. How sweet. In all honesty, he wanted to do it again. And again. And again. 

When James woke the next morning, the back door was open, and Olivia was nowhere to be seen. He got up, making his way out the door, finding her sitting in the same place she had been last night. Her eyes were trained ahead of her, not even blinking when he took up his spot beside her. 

It was silent between them for a long time. Neither of them knew quite what to say. He could tell she was nervous, still a little embarrassed by what she did. He wanted to tell her not to be, to tell her he liked it. That he wanted her to do it again, but he decided to let her make the first move. He didn’t want to rush into things, to get a wrong impression and push her away. He wanted to be with her. He understood that much. But he wanted her consent. He wanted to know what was going on in her head. He wasn’t going to force himself on her again. Not this time. 

“I’m sorry.” She finally said, looking down at her bare feet. It was cold outside, and she was in nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants. “I...I don’t know what came over me. I’d never been kissed before, and I wanted it to be special, and now I’ve ruined everything-” 

He cut her off, gripping her chin. He turned her face to his, pressing his lips against hers. Obviously letting her make the first move wasn’t going to work. She was guilty, thought she’d done wrong. Pushed him away. But she’d only dragged him closer to her. 

Their kiss was sweet, short. Just like the first. James’ fingers were soft, gentle as he ran them down her jaw, then back up. Her skin was smooth under his hand, and he felt himself yearn to feel more of it. He pulled away, her eyes closed, lips parted slightly. He watched as her eyes fluttered open, her eyes meeting his. There was a little green in her eyes. It was faint, but it was there. He hadn’t noticed that before. Most of the times they’d been this close, she’d been trying to calm him down. 

“I don’t want to rush you into anything. And I certainly don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I’ve wanted to do that since last night.” He heard her shaky exhale. “I’m not mad, and I’m certainly not going to push you away. I’ve...been feeling something building inside me over the past few weeks. You’ve been so good to me, doll, and I can’t help but want more. I want to be able to hold you, feel you next to me all the time. I want to be able to touch you.” He cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her skin. “Feel your soft skin, the warmth in your cheeks when you blush.” He smiled slightly when she did indeed blush. “You got me goin’ crazy girl, and I’m just glad you were brave enough to make the first move.” 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” She sighed, moving her hand up over his on her cheek. “Just...the way you look at me, the way you talk to me, like I’m something special. The way you take care of me. I’ve seen your worst, violent side. Hell I watched you murder a man. And I would still take you despite that. I’ve seen your best side. Your ability to be kind and gentle. You’ve cared for me. You killed a man because he was touching me. And as twisted as it is, I find that really sweet. That you care that much about me. Granted, I’m not exactly the most put together, I’m still broken inside, but...you’ve helped me put myself back together this far.” I laced my fingers with his. 

“You’ve helped me more than you know.” He said, holding my hand tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you. You’re the only thing keeping me sane. You’ve pulled me from nightmare after nightmare, flashback after flashback. You buy me things...plums, books, you let me talk to you. Just being around you makes me feel like I can be something again. Someone again. But, if we’re going to do this, I want you to know that you’re calling the shots. You take this as fast as you want. If you get uncomfortable, then we can back off. Take as much time as you need, doll. Because I don’t plan on going anywhere.” 

I cupped his cheek, leaning forward to press another kiss to his lips. His metal hand cupped the back of my head, holding me there. 

“I’m a little rusty.” James said, pulling away for a breath before kissing me again. “But it’s starting to come back to me.” 

“Good.” I said between kisses. “Because I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

We both laughed before kissing again, the cold air biting at us on the balcony, but neither of us cared. We were so engrossed in each other, the feel, taste of the other we didn’t even notice. Plus, James was warm enough for the both of us. I couldn’t have been happier in that moment. I felt complete, whole. I was starting to rebuild myself from the inside, and I had someone there to glue me back together. 

Happy New Year indeed. 


	44. Happiness Only Lasts So Long

James and I were curled up in bed in the sleeping bag, his arms around me, my back to his chest. He was still asleep, but I’d been up for a few minutes. I had to go to work today, but I was trying to make every minute with James last. My fingers were tracing a pattern on his arm, feeling the muscle under the skin, the prominent veins on the back of his hand. He shifted slightly, a sigh escaping him before he nuzzled deeper into the pillow. I sighed as well, knowing I needed to get up. I tried, but James just tightened his arms around me. 

“James.” I whined, trying to escape him, but he just held me tighter. “James, I need to go to work.” 

“Hmm...no.” 

“James.” I whined, pushing one last time against his arm, but then gave up, huffing out a breath. 

“Why do you work anyways? We’d be fine without it.” He murmured. 

“I do it because it’s good for me to get out of the apartment every once in awhile.” 

“I’m not that horrible of company, am I?” 

“Not most of the time...” 

“What do you mean most of the time?” He asked teasingly, flipping me on my back. His fingers traced my cheek, as he looked me in the eyes. He was more relaxed than I’d seen him in a long time. “Have I ever told you that you’re beautiful?” 

“Every morning.” I said, blushing a little. 

“Well,” He said, leaning down to peck my lips. “I don’t think I do it enough.” He kissed me again, his lips moving slowly against mine. 

I would have loved to stay like that all day, but I had to get to work. I used the distraction to slip out from under him, heading to the bathroom, sticking my tongue out at him as he protested. 

Work was uneventful as usual, giving me time to relax. Work out my worries and frustrations. And giving me a little time away from James. Sure, we were together now, and things were great, but I did need a little time to myself, and he was very good at smothering me when I was at home. I guess it had to do with the whole wanted-ex-assassin-who’s-now-dating-someone complex. I was a liability. I was a weakness. Not that I hadn’t been before, but now that we’d solidified things, that just made it all the more dangerous. For both of us. 

So when I was grabbed walking home, it didn’t really surprise me. I had gone to the market to get more fruit, knowing we were running low. I had decided to take a shortcut home, one that I didn’t like, but I knew I was running behind and James got twitchy when that happened. So me, being dumb, took the dark, isolated alley, thinking I’d be safe. But I wasn’t. 

A hand shot out and grabbed me, panic filling me as my back hit the brick hard. My backpack fell from my hand, hitting the ground beside me, with my knife stuck in the front pocket. An arm barred across my chest, trapping me in. Foul breath hit me, and a face came into view in the low light hanging above the door to my left. I squirmed, trying to get away, but he was strong. Unusually strong. 

He said something in Romanian, his accent was thick, and I only knew so much. I didn’t know what to say, and he shoved me against the wall harder. He slapped me, my head snapping to the side, yelling at me again. 

“I’m sorry...I-I don’t know-” 

He shoved me harder against the wall, my head snapping back, hitting the brick. I saw stars for a moment, barely registering the punch to my stomach, making me double over. He threw me to the ground, my arms and knees getting scraped up as I tried to catch my fall. The man’s foot came down on my back, pushing me to the alley. I heard his belt click and panic filled me. I screamed, trying to get away, but he grabbed a fistful of my hair, slamming my head into the ground. My vision went blurry, dots dancing in front of my eyes. I felt his hands on me, tears filling my vision as my head was pounding. I could feel something pooling under my head, something wet and warm. I tried to fight him off as he yanked my pants down, but I was too weak. I felt nauseous, sick to my stomach. I couldn’t focus on anything, my breathing nothing more than shallow gasps as I hyperventilated. I could feel his hands, dirty and rough on me. Touching me.

But then they were gone. I heard a yell, and a thud, then a voice, seething with anger speaking in Romanian. I turned, pushing myself up weakly, my arms shaking at the effort. My vision swam, my head feeling like it was disconnected from my body as I stared down the alley, watching James pummel the man’s face in. The man wasn’t fighting, wasn’t even moving. He wasn’t trying to stop James. 

I got up to my knees, pulling my pants back up as I tried to move towards them, but I couldn’t hold myself up. “James!” I called, my voice nothing more than a squeak. I coughed, tasting blood. “James. Stop.” 

He paused, mid punch, seeming to come back to himself. The man wasn’t moving, his face nothing more than a bloody pulp. But he was breathing. Weak, rattling breaths. There was blood on his metal hand as he turned to me, his eyes full of hatred and anger. It was the first accident we’d had. The first time he’d hurt anyone in Romania and I could see it in his eyes. The guilt that flashed, the anger, the pain. 

He didn’t say anything as he bent down, picking up my backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. He picked me up next, cradling me to his chest as he walked the short ways back to the apartment. I was still in shock, not quite registering the pain I was in. I must have done something to anger god. Something to make whoever was up there hate me. Maybe I was too curious. Maybe it was a sign that I had fucked up and deserved everything I was getting. I leaned my head on James’ shoulder and cried silent tears all the way up to the apartment. James sat me down on the couch, making sure I was steady before going to the kitchen, flipping on the light. It burned my eyes, making me whimper and close them, trying to block out the ugly florescent. I heard him moving around, doing something, but my head was pounding too much to open my eyes again. 

Something cold touched my cheek, something frozen. James moved my hand so it was holding whatever it was there. Frozen vegetables. I heard him open the first aid kit, paper rustling around before I yelped as an antiseptic wipe touched my head. James shushed me, holding me still with his flesh hand on my shoulder as he dabbed at my skin. His hand moved up to the back of my head until he found a sore spot. 

“Damn it.” He breathed, dropping his hand to grab something from the first aid kit. “You must love getting hurt Olive.” He said, holding something against the back of my head. 

“Well...” I wheezed out. It hurt to breathe, my stomach clenching painfully with every inhale and exhale. “It’s certainly become a normal thing for me.” 

I could picture him shaking his head at me. “I don’t think you need stitches.” I felt him wrapping something around my head...probably to hold the bandages in place. “But we’ll see later how it looks. You’ll be sore for awhile.” He seemed to notice my difficulty breathing. “What’s wrong?” 

“Hurts...” I whimpered. 

“What hurts. You gotta talk to me, baby doll.” I lifted my shirt, pointing to my stomach. “Jesus.” He breathed and I heard him shift. “Don’t move.” He said before getting up. 

“Yeah. Like I’m gonna go run a marathon before you get back.” I snarked, but my tone was flat. Realization hit me of what had just almost happened. What James had saved me from a second time. He’d tried so hard to avoid something like this, and my careless mistake had caused him to break his promise. I jumped when I felt him near me again, pressing something freezing cold to my stomach. I gasped, trying to move away, but the couch would only let me go so far. 

“Here.” He said, tugging my shirt back down before pressing the ice to it again, taking my other hand to hold it there. 

“How did you know I was there?” I asked, trying to ignore the tear falling down my cheek. “How did you find me?” 

“I went out looking for you. You were late getting back, and I got worried. Checked the bookstore, and the market before I thought of the alley.” 

“How do you know about the alley?” 

“I’ve followed you.” 

“What, you just straight up stalked me before?” 

“You’re very oblivious sometimes.” He said as he put away the first aid kit. 

“Well, I’m glad you found me.” I said quietly. 

“Are you okay?” I heard him kneel in front of me. 

“Yeah. I just need some sleep.” 

“Sorry, doll. You’ve got a concussion. No sleeping for you tonight.” I heard him shift, and papers rustle. “You’re sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah...” I said, adjusting myself on the couch slightly. 

But I wasn’t. I was far from it. 


	45. "In A Hole In The Ground"

James was ashamed to say he fell asleep. He’d been under such mental strain...Olivia being late getting home, his panic as he combed the streets for her, every possible scenario going through his head. Had HYDRA found them? Had they taken her as bait? Had they killed her? Left him a trail of breadcrumbs to her body? Then they’d grab him there, do whatever it was they had planned. Had someone else taken her? Had she been snatched off the street? Pretty girl walking alone at night. She didn’t know how to defend herself well, and it would be easy to just take her. One hit to the face and she was down. Then he’d probably never find her...at least alive. They’d torture her, rape her, all the things she’d already gone through. And he knew if he did find her alive...he didn’t want to think about that. 

But he had found her, in the stupid alley she insisted on taking when she was running late. The dark one that ran behind a bar. When he’d seen that man on her, touching her...the anger he hadn’t felt in a long time rising to the surface. He would have killed the man. There was no question there in his mind. He would have killed the asshole, giving him what he deserved. But she’d stopped him, not wanting to have that guilt hanging over him. He’d tried so hard  keep them safe. He’d tried so hard to keep something like this from happening. He’d tried so hard...gone so long without hurting anyone. But that man had deserved it. That sick bastard didn’t deserve to live. Any man who thought they could do that to a woman deserved to have their face punched in. But that didn’t mean he was okay with doing it. At least not after the fact. 

He wasn’t sure what had woken him at first, his senses not quite caught up until he heard it a second time. He was on his feet, pushing the bathroom door open. Olivia was on the floor, bent over the toilet. She was shaking like a leaf, her breathing coming in gasps as she sobbed, and puked into the toilet. He knelt down, reaching for her shoulder. She jumped, gripping the toilet lid as a squeak left her, and he stilled his hand, resting it on her shoulder. 

He shushed her, pulling her hair back as she vomited again. “It’s just me.” He said quietly, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“I-It...h-hurts...” She sobbed out, leaning over to vomit again. 

Her skin was warm as he felt her face. He leaned over her, but didn’t see any blood in her vomit. 

“I need you to breathe.” He said, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe her face off. She was sweaty and had snot and vomit everywhere. “I know it hurts doll, but you’ll stop puking if you calm down.” 

He put his metal hand on her other shoulder and she shrieked, jumping away from him. She continued to sob, leaning over the toilet and he sat back, running his hand down his face. She was delirious and obviously not in a state  that she could listen to him. Her breaths were short, small gasps, followed by a long exhale as she sobbed pitifully over the toilet. Blood had soaked through both pieces of gauze on her head, her panic not helping that either. He wasn’t sure what to do. She wouldn’t let him touch her, and she wasn’t going to listen to him. He sat there for a second before getting an idea. He got up, flushing the toilet to try and remove the vomit smell, before leaving the room, grabbing what he needed before entering the bathroom again. 

He sat down, leaning against the wall in the small space, pulling his knees up so he had room. He opened the book, starting at the first page. 

“‘In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit.’” He started reading. “‘Not a dirty, nasty wet hole full of the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.’” 

He got through a chapter and a half before she calmed down. Her breathing was still shaky, but it had slowed to a relatively normal pace. She was still sitting on the floor, her head against her arm on the side of the toilet. She hadn’t vomited again, which was a good sign. He finished the chapter, and he almost would have said she was asleep, had she not flinched when he moved. 

“Doll, we gotta get you cleaned up.” He said, squatting down next to her. “Gotta get some water in ya. Make you feel better.” 

“I...can’t.” Her voice was hoarse, cracking as she spoke. 

“You can’t what?” He asked.

She didn’t say anything, just stayed where she was. He could see the tears falling, and he was surprised she had any left. 

“Okay. How about I bring you some water instead?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer as he got up, heading to the kitchen to get a glass. He heard a thump from the bathroom, a frown forming on his face. He set the glass on the counter before heading back to the bathroom, sticking his head through the door. She had fallen over, now curled up on the floor. 

“Doll...” He said, but got no response. “Get up.” But she didn’t even flinch. “Damn it.” He breathed, moving over to shake her shoulder. She didn’t move. 

He scooped up her unconscious form, propping her up on the couch. He wiped her face with a rag, getting the vomit out of her hair as well. He changed the bandages on her head, checking to make sure they weren’t aggravated. Her cheek was still red, slightly bruised from where she’d been slapped, and her lip was cracked and split it was so dry. She was still warm, but had started to cool off as she relaxed. He checked the bruise on her stomach, big ugly and purple, standing out against her pale complexion. 

“What am I going to do with you?” He breathed, shaking his head. 

He got more ice, wrapping it in a towel before leaning it on her stomach, tucking her shirt around it. He probably should have taken her to a hospital, made sure she wasn’t bleeding, made sure her head trauma wasn’t worse than it looked. She’d taken some hits, had her head bashed more than what was probably considered safe. He probably should have gotten her checked out, but he didn’t, knowing doctors liked to ask questions, wanted to know everything. They’d probably say he beat her, he did this and then he’d really be in trouble. He’d have to leave her, run again to god knows where. And he didn’t want to leave her. They’d be sitting ducks at a hospital. He didn’t know who the man was, but he doubted he’d been set on them. He had been weaponless, and couldn’t fight worth a damn. Well, no one really could against him. He was a trained assassin with a metal arm. There were few who could stand as an opponent against him. And he’d left them in D.C. He could keep it in his head that HYDRA had lost their trail. Hadn’t followed them, had given up trying to find them. Or, he could pray that much. They’d never be completely safe. 

He sat down on the floor, leaning against the couch as he picked up the Hobbit, continuing to read to her. He called her work when morning came, explaining to the owner she was in an accident and probably would be out for the rest of the week. He seemed nice, worried about her. Olivia always spoke highly of him, and he could see why. Older, grandfatherly type. He quickly scrapped his idea about making her quit. He’d follow her every day if he had to. He picked the book back up, continuing to read. 

He got halfway through the book before she stirred, waking up. He got up, grabbing the glass, knowing she was dehydrated. He knelt down, watching as her eyes fluttered open, slightly dazed and bleary for a moment as she registered her surroundings. But they were focused, which made him breathe a sigh of relief. Her head trauma hadn’t been as bad as he was expecting. 

“Drink.” He said, holding the glass to her lips. 

He made sure she took small sips, knowing if she took it too fast she’d probably start puking again, and they’d be back at square one. She seemed to perk up a little as she finished the glass, her eyes clearing slightly. And that’s when everything went to hell. 


	46. Ripped Apart

Her fists were hitting him as he tried to hold her still. She managed to get one good hit to the side of his face, but it had barely jostled him. She was crying again, screaming, trying to get away from him. He held her down as she pleaded, begging him to let her go. His attempts at calming her were useless. He finally got her pinned down, her wrists in his flesh hand, his metal arm holding her down. 

“Olivia, calm down.” 

His mouth went dry when she looked at him, fear...no, terror in her eyes. They were glassy with unshed tears, her breaths shaky as she stared at him. 

“Please don’t hurt me.” She whispered, voice shaky. 

He released her, and she pushed him back, jumping off the couch before cornering herself in the kitchen. He didn’t approach her, staying where he was. 

“Olivia, talk to me. What’s going on?” 

“You ruined me.” She whispered, his sensitive ears picking it up. “You ruined my life! I was fine, happy! But then you came along and ruined it! You, and HYDRA!” She was screaming at him now, holding on to the counter to keep herself upright. He could see her legs shaking under her, running off of sheer adrenaline. “I could have had a life! I could have fallen in love! Gotten married! Had a...had a...” She covered her mouth as a sob left her, sliding to the ground so she was curled up against the cabinets. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared at her. She wasn’t wrong. HYDRA had ruined her life. And by default, so had he. He took a step towards her but her head shot up, the look in her eyes stopping him. She got up, wiping her face before walking out of the kitchen, using the cabinets to hold herself up. She took a step, but stumbled and he reached out to steady her. 

She pushed him away, and he let her. “Don’t touch me.” There was venom in her voice. Anger. It stung a little. 

She pulled on her shoes, and her jacket and hat before grabbing her backpack. He watched her walk out, waiting until he couldn’t hear her on the stairs anymore before copying her actions. The last thing he needed was her getting hurt again. And at his fault. 

He followed her as she stumbled weakly through the streets of Bucharest. It wasn’t hard, she wasn’t moving very fast. Most who passed her probably thought she was either drunk or high, usually giving her a wide berth. One man bumped into her, sending her sprawling on the ground, but he didn’t bother stopping, probably mistaking her for a homeless person. He almost revealed himself then, as he watched her struggle to her feet, and he wasn’t alone. She got lots of pitiful looks as she stumbled, catching herself on a pole. But no one offered her help. But he knew her well enough to say she didn’t want it. 

He continued following her until it got dark, and she found a spot on a park bench to sit. He kept an eye on the surrounding areas, knowing she was a sitting duck. Alone and injured in a park at night. She was just asking to get hurt again. Or worse. 

He moved when he saw the group of men walking down the pathway, thankfully not spotting her yet. He sat down on the opposite side of the bench, watching them pass. He waited until they were gone, and he couldn’t hear anything but crickets anymore. 

“You’re just asking to get hurt now.” He said, keeping his gaze in front of him. 

“You followed me?” Her voice was hoarse, and weak, and she didn’t look at him either. 

“Of course. You’re not in any shape to be going out on your own. You weren’t that hard to follow either. Girl stumbling drunkenly through the streets of Bucharest. I’m pretty sure everyone who saw you would remember you.” 

“Except the asshole that ran into me.” 

“I almost helped you, then. But you wanted to be on your own. You needed time to think.” 

She didn’t say anything for a while, both of them sitting in silence. Neither of them knew what to say. She was the first to break the silence. 

“My head’s bleeding.” She said, reaching back to touch her neck, before showing him her hand. 

Her palm was scraped up, a couple new cuts there from when she’d fallen today. And indeed there was blood on her fingers. 

“I can help you with that.” He said. “But you have to let me.” 

“I don’t know if I want you to.” She shook her head. “Everything that happened kind of came on at once and I lost it. I almost got raped again. I must have pissed off someone upstairs. Oh, Olivia’s going outside, let’s have her almost get raped. Make her suffer more. I don’t know how much longer I can just shove that aside.” 

“Well, if you go to the hospital, don’t give them an address, or your real name.” He said, standing up. “And if you want, you can come back. Feel free to let yourself in if I’m not there.” He said before turning and walking away. 

He should have just taken her back kicking and screaming. He shouldn’t have left her there. He knew she needed to think, and she needed to figure things out, and he wasn’t helping her by smothering her all the time. Things had been going so well...but then they just kind of fell apart. He should have listened to his heart and stayed with her. Because the next time he’d see her, he’d regret ever walking away. 

****

I knew it was dumb, trying to be out on my own. Thinking I could survive like that. Injured, half out of my mind. I should have listened to the voice in my head, telling me to go back to the apartment and talk to James. But no. I was stupid and decided to just leave. 

I regretted my decision as soon as I made it out of Bucharest. I was still stumbling drunkenly on some back road, trying to hitchhike my way somewhere. I didn’t care where I was going...just as long as I got away. I should have been smarter, but my head was pounding, I was bleeding, tired and hungry. 

I nearly cried when an old pickup truck pulled over. In hindsight I should have remembered every horror movie I’d ever seen. Because when the driver spoke English to me, in a foreign country, it should have registered that something was very wrong. Not that I could have ran away. Because the man had hopped out of the bed before I’d had time to blink, covering my mouth with a cloth. I tried to struggle against him, but I was already weak, and could barely stand as it was. Darkness was almost a relief, a chance to get away from the horrors that were awaiting me. But this time, I didn’t have James to save me. 


	47. Little Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very dark. I almost didn't post it just because of that fact. It's dark, it's gory and it might be a little much for some.

Sharp pain in the back of my head woke me up. Something was tugging at my skin, pulling and biting at me. I tried to move away, but a hand stopped me, stopping the tugging as well. I heard a female voice, then the sound of footsteps. Lights were dancing on the wall...a fire not far from me. I could feel its warmth on my skin, and then I realized I was in my underwear. I began panicking, trying to get away, but found my wrists and ankles were tied. A pair of legs appeared in front of me, accompanied by heavy boots. A hand reached down in front of my face, holding a cloth against my nose and mouth. I knew there was no point to try and fight it. I was already screwed, so I gave into the darkness, hoping that when I woke again, it had only been a horrible nightmare. 

But I wasn’t that lucky. 

The fire was still crackling, the shadows dancing on the wall across from me. I was on my side, a pillow under my head, and a blanket spread out under me. The ground was dirty, covered slightly in hay. There was rain pelting the roof and it was freezing despite the warmth of the fire. A shiver ran through me, and I tried to hide it as I took in more of the surroundings.  There were vents in the top to let the smoke out, and the windows were wide open, letting the freezing January air in. There were three men around the fire in the center of the barn. All three were speaking in English, no Romanian accent whatsoever. My heart rate was off the charts, I was so terrified. What if they planned to kill me? Or what if they planned something worse? 

My wrists were tied to the point it was almost cutting off circulation. There was no point even trying to escape. I wasn’t entirely sure I could move. Oh, nevermind. Scratch that, I could. 

“Hey, look at that. Little Sister’s awake.” The man facing me said. 

The other two turned around, the tallest of the three, and also the buffest, got up, walking over to me. He squatted down so he was closer to me, where I was laying on the ground. 

“Hey there, Little Sister. How ya feeling?” He asked, stroking my hair. I bit my tongue, keeping a comment held back. Now was not the time to be sassy brain. “You bonked your head pretty hard.” He said, fingering the sore spot on the back of my head. “Had to have ‘Ma patch you back up. Got some ugly bruises, too.” His grubby fingers ran over my stomach, making me shudder and try to back away. “Don’t worry, Little Sister. You’ll like it in no time.” 

I almost vomited on his boots at those words. Panic flared inside me, and I struggled, making my wrists bleed as I tried to escape. He turned, saying something to one of the other men, and the one facing me got up, bringing something over to the man in front of me. I saw the needle glint in the firelight and I swear my heart stopped beating. I didn’t know what was in the needle, and I really didn’t want it in me. The man in front of me held me down, grabbing my arm to look at the inside of my elbow. 

“Don’t worry, Little Sister. Everything will be okay.” 

I whined as he jabbed the needle into my skin, the contents burning as they entered my system. I bit back a scream, knowing that could only fuel things. But suddenly the pain was gone, and I was floating. The pain was gone and I stopped struggling, stilling as whatever that was worked through my system. He was right. Everything was okay. 

I floated in and out of time and space for a while. The shadows on the walls danced, performing some kind of evil tango with the light. I was content, laying on my side in my underwear in a freezing barn. I was flying high and couldn’t be happier. All thought that I’d been kidnapped, what they were possibly going to do to me, James, all gone. I wasn’t really thinking anything at that moment. Or at least I thought I wasn’t. Wait...what? 

My head started to hurt, my mouth feeling like cotton as I started to come back to myself. I was vaguely aware of the hands on my things, running over my skin. They were rough, and sweaty. They weren’t James’. My eyes snapped open, meeting the barn ceiling. It took me a moment to remember what had happened. How stupid I’d been. I realized what was happening when I felt warm breath on parts I shouldn’t and suddenly the panic started. 

I squirmed, fought, tried to get away, but a body, much larger than mine settled over me. 

“Shh Little Sister. It’s all going to be okay.” 

I slapped at the chest, trying to get away until the pain hit me. I felt him against me, and then suddenly I was being torn in half. I screamed, my scream cutting off in a sob as the reality hit me. What was happening. What they were doing. I screamed again as he thrusted into me, still trying to fight. Until another hand shoved something in my mouth. Something soft and lacy. 

“Shoot, she’ll alert the whole country with those lungs.” The second person. “How is she?” 

“Tight and warm. Better than we thought.” 

“Why wouldn’t she be?” I jerked as the other man pulling on my nipple. 

I had resolved to silent tears and groans of pain as the man on me thrusted hard, his movements jerky as his grunts got louder. He stilled, something warm filling me and I panicked, trying to struggle away, but he held me down. 

“Shh, Little Sister. It’s okay.” He smoothed his hand over my hair like that was going to reassure me. Comfort me. 

It didn’t. 

He pulled out of me, and I could feel something leaking out between my legs. I wanted to close my knees, retain at least a little modesty, but he held my knees apart, his fingers running along my folds. 

“Sacrificial blood.” He said, lifting his fingers to his face. They were covered in blood, and something else. 

I whimpered as he lifted it to his mouth, licking his fingers clean. He closed his eyes, a blissful look on his face. There was the sound of tires outside, and I had faint hope it was the police, or something. 

“‘Ma’s here.” The other man said. 

The first just hummed his agreement, and the second man went over to the fire, stoking it back to life. I felt gross. More defiled that I had ever been. A part of me wished it was Rumlow again. Not some crazy men in a barn. The first man got up, moving to the door of the barn, opening it for an older woman. She had greying hair, and walked with purpose across the barn to me. She set down a bag before heading over to the corner, the sound of running water hitting my ears. She handed a bucket to the third man. 

“Heat that up. But don’t get it too hot.” 

She walked back over to me, pulling things out of the bag. She looked at me, doing a double take before pulling the panties out of my mouth. 

“Who are you?” Was the first thing out of my mouth. 

“You can call me ‘Ma. And those there are your brothers.” 

“You’re definitely not my mother. And they’re definitely not my brothers.” 

“They are now.” Was all she said as the third man brought the bucket of water over. 

“Yeah, and how many women before me?” I asked as she got a rag wet before running it over my skin. 

She didn’t say anything, poking at my ribs. “Have you fed your sister yet?” 

“Yes, ‘Ma.” The first man said. “Last night.” 

“Last night? She can’t possibly survive like that.” She scolded. “Don’t worry dear. We’re going to take nice care of you.” She said as the first man brought a needle over. 

He stuck it in the same area he had the first time, and it didn’t take long before I was flying again. Lost in time and space. Everything was okay, and I didn’t care that there was a crazy woman giving me a sponge bath. Or wiping the blood and semen from between my legs. Or that I had just been raped. Yeah, everything was okay. 

My head felt like it was being split in two as I woke back up. It was dark, the only light coming from the fire. I was freezing, naked in the corner still. My hands were still bound, but my legs were free. There was a body between them, and I was starting to think this would be a normal thing. Again. The body over mine stilled, warmth rushing into me again. I didn’t even bother fighting this time, knowing I wasn’t going anywhere. Sweaty fingers gripped my chin, turning my face so I was staring upwards. 

“So beautiful.” A voice I didn’t recognize said as a hand stroked down my cheek. “So sweet.” Fingers ran across my lips, and I tilted my head, biting down on the fingers. 

“Son of a bitch!” A slap echoed across the barn, my head snapping to the side before the pain registered. 

“Don’t hurt our merchandise.” The first man yelled. 

“The whore bit me!” 

The first man came over. “If you don’t want her to bite you, don’t place temptation there.” He said as the unknown man got to his feet. “Five hundred. I’ll take a few off since she bit you.” 

I felt tears falling down my cheeks as they walked to the barn door. The first man counted the money before putting it in a safe. He walked back over to me, squatting down, grabbing my face. 

“Don’t bite the customers. We’ll rip out your teeth if you do it again.” 

He got up, moving back to the fire in the middle of the room. He bickered back and forth with the other men before they reached down, the sound of a bag rustling. I watched as they held something up towards the flames. My eyes were still blurry, so I couldn’t see totally, but I knew suddenly what they were doing. I wasn’t sure what exactly they were cooking, but whatever it was, I had got a taste as well. 

I watched as they each shot up, their heads falling back in bliss as they got high. I hoped, prayed that they’d fall into the fire, but they’d built up a tolerance to it. They were all somewhat functional, their words slurred, actions slow and jerky, the smiles never leaving their faces. 

I wasn’t sure how long I laid there, before the third man came, raping me as well. They gave me a shot of whatever they were cooking afterwards, and it was almost becoming routine now. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been gone. How long I’d been with them. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore. It was cold and I was numb. I was being raped and drugged by some hicks that called me their Little Sister. And then they were selling me. Selling my body for money. It was like something from a horror movie. I just hoped it didn’t end like one as well. 

It seemed like every time I came back to, I was being raped. Sometimes it was them, sometimes it was someone else. They always paid, some more than others. I was awake sometimes, aware of what was happening, but other times I was out of it. I wasn’t sure how many times I’d been raped, but by the pain in my lower regions, it had been more than I was aware of.

Days? Hours? Weeks? All went on. I was raw, filthy and sticky, but I was too high to care. I seemed to be losing all the time between doses, just feeling like everything was okay all the time. Until one night they were talking around the fire. I’d just taken all three one right after the other when I saw it. They were arguing over something...something that looked familiar. The knife. 

James’ knife. The one I’d had in my backpack. James. He didn’t know I was gone. He’d left me. Telling me I could come back if I wanted, but he didn’t force me. James. He’d taken care of me. Watched over me so something like this wouldn’t happen. So I could be safe. So I could feel safe. And I’d shoved it all in his face, running away. 

James. 

I sat up, sore, but clean. They’d put underwear back on me, probably some sick idea about decency ‘Ma’ had. I got up, feeling adrenaline pump through me. The first man had put the knife down beside him as they got high. Now was my chance. I snuck up behind them, grabbing the knife while they were distracted. The drugs doing wonders for me, as without them they would have heard me stumbling around. And probably seen me. 

I might have been a little high still. Hell, I probably was, with the way colors were dancing around the large man in front of me. But the rage was fueling me now, as I stabbed the knife into his back. I heard him grunt in pain, his body stiffening. I stabbed him again and again, my hands getting covered in blood. The other two didn’t seem to notice as they laughed about something, until his body fell to the ground. Then they saw me, probably looking like a nightmare, standing in the firelight, half naked and covered in blood. 

“Shit!” The second man said, reaching for something, but I was on him, pushing him to the floor as I stabbed him over and over as well. 

Blood splattered everywhere, all over me. I ducked as I heard a shot, failing like a newborn horse, the bullet hitting my calf. But I didn’t feel it. I was high and running on adrenaline. I took the third man down, but not after the bullet grazed my arm. They were slow and high, just the perfect match for me. 

I looked down at my hands, covered in blood. They were shaking, my whole body shaking as the reality of what I’d just done hitting me. I sank to the ground, crying as I looked at the bodies around me. I cried and screamed until I couldn’t anymore. My bare foot hit the knife and I came back to myself. 

James. 

I stood up, grabbing my jacket and the knife, finding my backpack dumped out on the ground in a corner. I stuffed everything back in, wrapping my coat around me, but seeing no sign of my shoes. Oh well. 

I walked out of the barn, the woods dark around me. It was clear, but there was no sign of the moon. It was also freezing. The drugs had started to wear off, or maybe it was just the adrenaline. I wasn’t quite sure what sober felt like. I couldn’t remember. 

I stumbled through the trees blindly until by a sheer act of god I saw a car drive past. But when I made it to the road, I wasn’t sure which way to go. Bucharest was one way, and the other would lead me further into the woods, where I was sure I would die. Though it would be a miracle if I made it to Bucharest in one piece as well. 

I turned, looking at the trees. Moss grows on the North side right? But which way was Bucharest? North? South? Where was I? I sighed, debating which way I should go, before deciding to go left, hoping that was the way. 

I must have walked for a good two hours. My feet were cut up and bleeding. My leg had started to hurt where I’d been shot, and I was shivering violently. It had to be in the twenties, with no cloud cover. I nearly cried when I started seeing buildings. Most were dark, it must have been late, or early. I wasn’t sure what time it was. 

I walked for another hour or so, making it back into the city. I was filthy, almost completely naked, except for the coat wrapped around me, bleeding and delirious, coming off a high on a drug I didn’t even want to take. I was glad it was late. Early? As there were hardly any people out on the street, and those that were, didn’t look any better than I did. 

I cried as I saw the apartment building, the sky just starting to lighten. I made it inside, the staircase never looking taller as I stood at the bottom. Tears were rolling down my face as I stared up at the top, shaking and nearly falling over. But I had made it this far. It was only five thousand steps. I did it all the time. I can do it now. 

I took it a step at a time, literally. I leaned against the railing, dragging myself to the door, falling against it. I didn’t have enough in me to knock. If he was home, he definitely heard me. He probably knew I was coming before I even hit the door. I leaned against it, breathing hard, my head splitting in half. I probably looked like something out of a horror movie. Probably more like the killer than a survivor. But I was a killer. I’d killed three men without batting an eyelash. Holy shit. I’d killed someone. Three someones. Just...killed them. Not even thinking about it. I’d been so mad...so hurt...so...high, I’d just done them in. 

I hadn’t even noticed the locks clicking, or the knob turning, or when the door had opened, my body falling against a hard chest. I stood there limply, sobbing against James’ shoulder as he held me up. I could feel his eyes on me, scanning me over. 

“Oh shit, doll.” I heard him breathe as he pulled me back into the apartment, closing the door behind him. 


	48. Blood

He’d been asleep at the time. A thump had woken him, and for a moment he didn’t know what had happened. But then he’d picked up the ragged breaths, the sobs on the other side of the door. He was ashamed to say he knew who they belonged to. He put the gun he’d been gripping away and got up, unlocking the door. 

He caught her as she fell against him. She was completely limp, freezing cold as she sobbed into his shoulder. He did a scan of her body, figuring out what was wrong. Bloody footprints marked where she’d been standing, her feet bare and cut up severely. He’d have to wash the prints off the stairs later. There was a bullet wound in her calf, blood trailing down her leg. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she was naked under the coat. 

“Oh shit, doll.” He breathed, pulling her into the apartment before shutting and locking the door. 

He moved her to the couch, sitting her down, not missing her whine of pain, or the way she stiffened when he did. There was blood splattered on her face, covering her hands. She was shaking violently, freezing cold. It had been one of the coldest nights in January so far last night. And she had obviously been out in it. She kept her eyes on him as he took her coat off, finding her in light pink underwear underneath, though it was barely recognizable from all the blood. He searched for the wound that was the cause of the blood, but found none. 

“I killed them.” She breathed, his sensitive ears picking it up. 

“Who did you kill?” He asked, looking into her eyes. 

They were glassy, unfocused, bloodshot. Her words were slurred and her face was flushed. 

“The men who took me.” 

“Who took you?” 

“They called me...Little Sister.” 

She had been gone five days. He’d scoured the city looking for her the next morning, even checked the hospitals, but she wasn’t anywhere to be found. He figured she’d left, heading out on her own. He hadn’t put serious thought into the idea that she could have been kidnapped. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it sooner. 

“What did they do to you?” He asked, grabbing the first aid kit and a bowl of warm water. He’d ask what she meant by ‘killing them’ when she was back to normal. 

“They grabbed me off the road. Tied me up in a barn.” He’d seen the raw skin of her wrists under the blood. “Gave me drugs.” So she was high. Still, even now. “They...they...” She swallowed the lump in her throat, looking down at her hands. “They raped me.” Her voice broke. 

He put the bowl of water down before he shattered it in his hand. He felt the rage build in him. He wanted to kill them. He wanted to hurt them for what they had done. He took her leg, turning her slightly so he could see the bullet wound. She flopped over, limp on the couch as he dug it out. She didn’t scream, or cry, which was alarming. She didn’t even flinch when he sewed the wound shut. He lifted her back up into a sitting position, surprised to see her still conscious. 

“They sold me. To men. They came and paid them. And raped me. I remember...some...but sometimes I was high...” She dragged the word out, before she broke down, sobbing as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“Shh.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry.” He said, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry I left you. I let this happen to you.” 

He held her for a long time, not caring that she got blood all over him. She needed him, and he wasn’t about to let her go now. He’d made that mistake once. He’d learned his lesson. 

He picked her up, moving to the bathroom where he turned on the water, making sure it was lukewarm as she was still freezing cold. He stepped into it, holding her, him still fully clothed, and her in her underwear. He let the water wash the blood off them both, watching the pink water go down the drain. She held him tightly, trusting him not to drop her as he lowered himself down into a sitting position so he could make sure all the blood was gone. She wasn’t shivering as bad now. Not like she had been. 

He turned off the water once they were clean, picking her up again to set her on the toilet lid. He grabbed her towel, drying her off carefully as he assessed her more now that she was clean. The cut on her forehead was healing nicely. He found stitches on the back of her head, and he was slightly grateful. He used a washcloth, making sure the dirt was washed out of the stitches before he wrapped her in the towel, leaving her there for a moment to grab one of his shirts. 

He pulled the red Henley over her head, rolling up the sleeves so he could see her wrists. They weren’t bleeding, but they were fairly raw. She jerked her hand from his, and he looked at her face, determination in her eyes as she reached back under the shirt, fumbling around. She pulled her arms through the sleeves and he watched as she pulled the bra off. She tossed it in the trash, doing the same with her underwear. She sighed, looking back up at him with soft eyes. 

“You’re still high.” He said, picking her up again. 

“Am I? I feel weird.” 

“And you will, until it’s worked out of your system.” He said, sitting her on the couch. “Which that will be a trip.” He murmured. 

She sat quietly, aside from the occasional sniffle as he cleaned her feet, picking out all the rocks, splinters, cleaning the dirt and blood off. He wrapped them with gauze, knowing there was no point to using individual bandages. 

He got a glass of water, watching as she gulped down the whole thing, handing it back to him, asking for more. She drank three glasses before he cut her off. But he didn’t miss the way her stomach rumbled. She frowned down at it, putting her hand over it. He shook his head before getting some leftover soup he’d had warmed up. She ate the entire thing, and he cut her off, telling her to rest. She needed that more than anything. When he’d washed the blood off, he’d noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was skinnier than she had been when she’d left, and that worried him too. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. He had a girl to watch over. 

“Will you stay with me?” She asked, clutching to his sleeve as he tucked her into the sleeping bag. 

“Maybe for a while.” 

She pulled him down, laying herself out over his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and she was out instantly. He knew he’d have to move before she woke up. Because if the drugs wore off by then, things would get ugly again if she woke up next to him. He took advantage of her drug-induced delirium to hold her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, knowing he wouldn’t have this chance again anytime soon. 

And he was right. 

He’d gotten up, fixing himself dinner. He’d need to get food tomorrow. Having her gone was a wake up call for how much she actually did. Buying groceries, cleaning, making sure he was okay. The regret was hitting him hard, beating him over the head with a hammer. He should have brought her back. He should have at least followed her to make sure she was safe. He’d failed both of them, letting her go off like that. She didn’t know how to defend herself. What was he thinking? 

He was brought back to himself when he heard her groan lightly, the sleeping bag rustling a little as she moved. She whimpered, and he turned, moving so he could see her. She was curled up, only her head visible over the sleeping bag. Her eyes were half open, her chapped lips parted as she breathed. 

She tried to speak, but ended up coughing, a deep, wet cough. Her inhale was scratchy, broken up by the phlegm in her throat and something flashed through his mind, a memory. His youngest sister had gotten sick one winter when she was barely old enough to walk. She had a nasty cough and could barely breathe...his ‘Ma had called it...pneumonia. He didn’t know what conditions she’d been in, but he could feel the panic starting to rise. She was warm, feverish. Maybe he’d have to get over his fear of hospitals, because she needed one. But she still had the drugs in her system. He could get medicine off the black market, but he was probably all over the black market. “Kill the Winter Soldier. Double if you bring him in alive. Extra if you bring his lackey best-girl who couldn’t keep herself from getting hurt.” 

He still called them a couple. For now, while he still could. They were making such good progress. But now...now he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what to expect when she worked the drugs through her system, and the reality hit her. But she might surprise him. Her drug induced mind had known enough to come back to him. That was reassuring. But it didn’t make it any easier to process it. He wanted to go after them. He wanted to find them, and rip them apart. But she was more important. She needed him, and he wasn’t going anywhere. 


	49. Nurse James

Olivia's condition continued to deteriorate. Her cough got worse, her breaths wheezing in her chest. She remained unconscious most of the time, aside from when he forced her to eat. She was feverish, and it was only getting worse. He spent an entire day combing the city, looking for someone to help her. Someone who wouldn't ask questions, and wouldn't bring in the police. That was the last thing either of them needed.

He finally found someone on the outskirts of town. A retired ER doc, bought most of his medicine off the black market. He'd already gone and spoken to him once, then used the truck to move Olivia there. She was muttering incoherently, lost in some feverish delirium. He carried her to the door, the doctor already there and waiting.

He led James to his office, instructing him to lay Olivia down on the table. He washed his hands, pulling gloves on before standing over her. He checked her lungs first, listening to her breathe. It wasn't hard, James could hear the phlegm as she inhaled without a stethoscope.

"Definitely pneumonia." The doctor said. "You said she was drugged?"

"She was high as a kite when I found her. And knowing her, she wouldn't do it willingly."

The doctor checked her eyes. "Well, it's worn off now. How long has it been?"

"Two days."

"She'll start withdrawing soon. I can give her penicillin, which will help to fight the pneumonia. But unfortunately, I can't do much for the withdrawal. She'll have to get through that on her own." He fingered the scabbed over cut on her forehead. "Do you mind if I check elsewhere for any wounds?"

James shook his head, feeling the protective instinct within him rise as the doctor bent her legs up, pulling her jeans down. James looked away, running his fingers up Olivia's arm.

"She has the beginning signs of syphilis."

"What?" James asked, turning to look at the doctor.

"It's an STD. Sexually Transmitted Disease. The penicillin will help with that as well. I would suggest a pregnancy test once she's back on her feet. Just for precautions."

James hadn't thought of that. She said they'd raped her. And they wouldn't have the same orders HYDRA had been given. But she'd still ended up pregnant then. Who's to say it wouldn't happen again. But what would they do with a kid? They could barely take care of themselves. There was still so much they had to work through. Telling her she was pregnant...if she was...he didn't want to think about what it would do to her.

James made sure Olivia took her medication, and got enough to eat and drink. She was still mostly out of it, spending most of the day in bed. James cleaned the apartment, and cleaned the stairs. He started from the bottom, working his way to the top. It made him hurt, cleaning her blood from the concrete. It made him feel guilty. This whole thing happened because he was dumb enough to let her go out on her own. He should have known better. She was raped and drugged because of him. He remembered the first time it had happened, when he'd...taken her. The way she pleaded with him, tried to get him to spare her. But he hadn't. He had been under orders. These men...they did it for money. They did it for sport.

His fist met the wall, creating a nice sized hole in the concrete. He froze there, seething at his own stupidity. His own guilt. His ears caught her coughs, and he realized how close he was to their apartment. He jogged up the last few steps, opening the door to check on her. She was on her stomach, trying to get up, but she was too weak.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, rushing to her side, turning her over before she hurt herself.

"I have to pee." Her voice was hoarse, no more than a whisper.

"Let me help you." He said, picking her up and carrying her to the bathroom.

She pulled her pants down while he steadied her, holding her up. She sat down on the toilet, and he placed the garbage can in front of her just in time to catch the vomit. It happened every time she got up. Whether from the withdrawals, or the pneumonia, he wasn't sure. He felt a little weird at first, standing there while she used the bathroom, but she had reminded him he'd done it before the first time they'd met. And he'd seen her naked. That he wasn't so comfortable thinking about. He'd helped her in the shower, but he'd made her wear her underwear. Call it guilt. Call it shame. Call it old-fashioned. He still felt like a breach of her privacy, and wasn't keen on it.

"You need a haircut." She said as she washed her hands in the sink, staring at him in the mirror.

"Well, maybe when you're better you can give me one."

She hummed her agreement, letting him pick her up again and put her back to bed. She was out like a light, curled up in the sleeping bag. He refilled her water cup, making sure she had crackers next to her before heading back out to finish cleaning the stairs. He tried not to let the blood bother him. It hadn't before. But seeing it like this, it made him nauseous.

Olivia slowly improved as the days went on. She didn't sleep all day like she had before, and could sit up without puking. She was still weak, incapable of walking by herself, partly due to the stitches in her leg, and the soreness she had started to feel. The withdrawals had come and gone, Olivia too sick to really notice it. Her fever had gone down, but she still had a nasty cough. He made sure she took her medication, the drug helping get rid of the syphilis, but there was still something that terrified him. Something that could quite possibly be growing inside her at that very moment. A tiny life, brought on by the worst possible circumstances. He knew he'd have to tell her the possibility was there. He'd have to tell her she could be pregnant. He'd bought the tests, and hid them, knowing they'd have to use them eventually. And if she was pregnant...he didn't know what they were going to do.

They couldn't raise a child. Hell, they weren't even really a couple. They couldn't handle a kid. Not in these conditions. If they suddenly had to leave, to run...that would make things harder. It would be a compliation neither of them needed. And Olivia...if she found out she was pregnant after everything that had happened...that could very well be her breaking point. She might not come back from that. And he wasn't about to lose her. He'd just gotten her back. He wasn't going to let her go so quickly.


	50. Aftermath

The first thing Olivia did when she woke up was vomit. Her fever had broken two nights ago, and both her and James had woken up covered in sweat. James was glad, knowing it was one less thing to worry about. But his panic had flared when he woke to her running to the bathroom that morning. Maybe it was just the sickness wearing off. She still wasn’t at one hundred percent. Maybe it was just that. But he couldn’t help the worried thoughts as he held her hair back away from her face as she puked into the toilet. He remembered when his ‘Ma had been pregnant. They’d only had one bathroom, and he always woke up to her puking in the morning. He had gotten worried then. Worried she was sick, like Steve. He was scared. Scared he’d lose his ‘Ma. 

Like he was scared now. 

“Olivia.” He said as he sat her back down on the bed. “We need to talk about something very important.” 

She gulped audibly. “Yes?” Her voice was weak, a cough escaping her. 

He sighed, fingering the tests in his backpack. “I took you to see a private doctor after you came back. And...with everything that happened to you,” He swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw the tears in her eyes. “He thought it best if you take a pregnancy test to make sure you’re not pregnant.” 

“P-p...I...oh god.” She covered her mouth, a couple tears falling down her cheeks. 

She snatched the test from his hand so fast he almost missed it, and locked herself in the bathroom. He could hear her sniffles as she took the test, emotions welling up in him. Fear, nervous energy, anger, sympathy. It was all too much. He fingered the tear in the couch, thinking back to how it got there. 

**48 HOURS EARLIER**

It was the first time Olivia had come out of her fever induced delirium. He had heard her shift, just barely having time to move as the knife came down where he was sitting on the couch. It tore through the fabric, and he grabbed her wrist, leaving it suspended there as he pushed her to the ground. She punched at him, kicked, tried to get away. 

“No. No!” She screamed as he grabbed her wrists, pinning them together in his flesh hand, as his knees held him up over her. 

“Olivia!” He shouted, trying to get her to look at him as she struggled. “Olivia, it’s James.” 

“Please.” She sobbed out, pathetic whimpers leaving her lips. 

“It’s Bucky. It’s your Bucky.” 

She calmed down a little, her eyes meeting his as whatever daze cleared. “Bucky?” She whispered, a small frown forming on her features. 

“Hi, doll.” He said, releasing her wrists. 

He moved so she could sit up, watching as she scanned the apartment. “I…” She inhaled shakily as she spotted the knife still embedded in the couch. “I didn’t...oh god.” 

He pulled her into his chest, sitting back so she was in his lap, his back against the couch. He reached back, pulling the knife out before sliding it under the couch. She cried against his shoulder and he held her. He had expected this to happen. For her to lose herself when she woke up. She hadn’t exactly had a clear mind over the past few weeks. Between the drugs, and the fever it was a miracle she was even up now. Her fever had broken that morning when she was asleep, but he hadn’t expected her to snap back this fast. 

The sobs turned into coughs that wracked her whole body. He rubbed her back as she curled against him, taking in his warmth. 

“You okay, doll?” He asked, kissing the back of her head as her coughs quieted. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I didn’t-” 

“Shh.” He shushed her. “Don’t. I know what it’s like to wake up and not remember where you are. To still be in the throes of a nightmare. Just be glad I have fast reflexes.” He stood up, placing her back on the bed. “Just take it easy, okay? You’re still pretty sick.” 

“What...happened?” She hesitated, her hand gripping his arm. 

“We’ll talk about it when you’re better. Right now you should sleep.” 

**PRESENT**

He sat on the couch for what felt like an eternity. Time seemed to drag as he waited for the verdict from the first test. He’d make her take another in a few days to make sure. It had been weeks, but he was foggy on how soon a test would tell. The doctor had said, but most of what the doctor had said is fuzzy in his brain. 

The bathroom door opened and she came out, the test in her shaking hands. He held his breath, his stomach painfully knotted. 

“Negative.” She said as she handed him the test. 

He didn’t care that she’d peed on it, he took it from her anyways as she sat next to him. He needed to see it to believe it. And it took him a moment as he stared at the single line. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, cupping the side of her head, bringing her into his side. He pressed his lips to the side of her head, breathing her in for a moment. She smelled faintly of sweat, but he didn’t care. He was relieved. 

“You gonna tell me what happened now?” She asked, still tucked into his side. 

“You were injured and upset, and I just let you walk away from me.” He shook his head. “I should have followed you, something. But I didn’t. You were gone for five days, before you showed up back here. You were high as a kite, bloody and cut up. You had a bullet wound on your leg, and so many splinters in your feet I lost count. You were half naked and freezing cold. I cleaned you up. And from what I heard they kidnapped you from the side of the road, tied you up, drugged you, raped you, sold you. They stitched up your head wound though. And...you told me you killed them.” 

She was silent for a moment, still tucked against his chest. “I did.” Her words were quiet, but he could hear them loud and clear. “I stabbed them. All three. I...I don’t know how...I saw the knife and...I thought of you. It just...happened. Oh god. I...I killed them…” 

“Hey.” He said, holding her shoulders so they were looking each other in the eye. “It’s okay. You acted in self defense.” You didn’t have a choice. You acted in self defense. You weren’t exactly yourself either.” He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “Just try to remember that.” 

He held her close, relief filling him as he thought about the disaster that had possibly been avoided. A disaster for both of them. Not that he would think that if it were a different situation. He had thought about their future. He knew they wouldn’t be here forever. But, there was the glimmering hope that they could be free one day. They could live where they wanted without fear of being hunted down. Being caught and tortured, and possibly killed. He had thought of them together, in a house in the countryside. He’d be doing repairs on the house while she was in the kitchen, working on lunch. He’d kiss her sweetly, placing his flesh hand on her swollen belly, where their child was growing. He knew it would never happen, but he could dream. He could hope. 


	51. Healing

She’s shivering. James was leaning against the wall, Olivia wrapped up in the sleeping bag in his arms, pressed tightly to his chest. Her fever had come back, her cough worsening. He was scared. She had been doing so well...and now she was on a downhill spiral. 

“Bucky?” She whimpered, and he almost didn’t hear her. 

“Shh.” He hushed her, trying to figure out what he was going to do. 

“Don’t leave me.” She whispered, curling closer to him. 

“I won’t, doll. I promise.” 

Her illness seemed to fluctuate. She’d be better, up and moving around for a couple of days, and then she’d be in bed with a fever. He still made her do pregnancy tests, each coming up negative. It offered him relief, until he thought maybe they were defective. What if she was, and it still hadn’t shown? He was concerned about her. Concerned for her. James didn’t know what he was going to do. He cared about Olivia. More than he probably should have. He wouldn’t go so far as to say “love” yet, but he knew if he let things continue like they were...he’d find himself there. But he wanted to talk to her first. 

He wanted her consent. He wanted her to tell him it was okay. To tell him she felt the same way, and she wanted him to love her. He’d done enough without her consent. He didn’t want to push her, or make her uncomfortable. Pushing her away would devastate him beyond what he liked to think about. If she ever left again...if he ever hurt her again...he didn’t want to think about what it would do to him. How badly it would ruin him. He needed her. She was his rock, as much as he was hers. 

“Bucky?” She whispered, drawing him from his thoughts. 

“Yes, doll?” 

“You’re squeezing me too tight.” 

He loosened his grip. “Sorry, doll. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No.” She groaned, shifting in his lap so she was straddling his waist. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing the thoughts racing through his head away. The last thing he needed was a woodie while she was delirious in his lap. Her eyes were slightly glazed over, her face flushed as she tilted her head, running her fingers over his jaw. 

“You’re so pretty.” She whispered, scanning his face with her eyes. “So...pretty.” 

“And you’re delirious.” 

She pouted a little. “That was mean.” 

“Doll, you have a fever.” He said, pushing her hair from her face. “And as much as I’d love to, I don’t want to do this while you’re out of it. I don’t want you to regret anything later.” 

“I won’t regret it.” 

He smiled a little, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You say that now. Maybe once you’re better, we’ll talk about it.” 

She sighed, tucking her head into his neck. 

And she did get better. Her fever broke a couple days later, and her cough was all but gone a couple weeks after. She was still weak, staying either on the couch, or in bed. James took care of her, making sure she had food, water, entertainment. She hadn’t seemed scared of him, but he knew she was holding things in. It was all going to come pouring out at once, if she didn’t talk about it. Normally he was the one holding things in. Keeping morbid details to himself. But she was the talker, and he knew things were going to get explosive if she didn’t let it out. 

And he was right. 

He’d gone to the farmers market to get some plums, and some other fruits for Olivia. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he walked in the door, the apartment a mess, and the door to the balcony wide open. He dropped his backpack, rushing out to the balcony to find Olivia standing on the railing overlooking the street below. He wanted to shout, but he knew if he startled her, she’d fall. And there would be no surviving that. He knew it would be a miracle if  _ he  _ survived it. He reached out, grabbing her around the legs, pulling her down from the railing. 

He shoved her to the ground rather roughly, pinning her down with his flesh hand on her chest, his metal hand by her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him, and he knew his gaze was a little too cold. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” He growled, pressing probably too hard on her chest. 

“I’m sorry.” She said, her voice cracking. “I just was thinking...and then I had a ‘Jenny’ moment and...” 

“A ‘Jenny’ moment?” 

“Right...you’ve never seen Forrest Gump.” She swallowed, wincing as his hand pressed on her sternum. “James...you’re hurting me.” 

He pulled his hand back like he’d been burned, breathing hard as he looked down at her. Her chest heaved as she took in a few deep breaths. She was wearing his red Henley, and nothing else. One pale leg was bent by his side, and his fingers twitched as he refrained from running them along the creamy skin. His eyes trailed up the expanse of skin until he found where the shirt had bunched up around her waist, the hint of black lace peeking out underneath. He swallowed thickly, standing to his feet, staring down at her. 

“Get up. Help me clean up the apartment.” He paused in the doorway, looking down at her legs again. “And put some pants on.” 

He didn’t mean to be so cold, but she was teasing him, and she didn’t even know it. He didn’t want to make any advances and scare her off. He wanted to touch her. Feel her smooth skin under his hand. He wanted to kiss her over and over and over again, but he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to make her happy, but he knew he couldn’t. He was broken. She was broken. And sometimes, two broken pieces don’t fit back together. He wanted them to. He wanted it so badly, but he didn’t want to scare her away. 

They cleaned up the apartment before Olivia showered, leaving Bucky to stew in his thoughts on the couch. He hadn’t moved when she got out of the shower, toweling her hair dry as steam rolled out through the open door. He watched her, and he couldn’t help his eyes from trailing up her legs as she bent over, digging through her bag. He could see the scar on her calf, and the other on her thigh. The “far too short to even be considered clothing” shorts she wore doing nothing to help his predicament. Neither did she when she plopped down on the couch, throwing her legs over his lap. He stiffened, closing his eyes as her feet rested on his thigh, knees bent by his chest. He clenched his fist, glad she was engrossed in her book so she wouldn’t see his struggle. 

It was silent between them, Olivia buried in Jane Austen, and James trying to control himself. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers over her skin, watch as goosebumps formed where the metal ran up the inside of her thigh. Throw the teasing back in her face. Make her understand what she did to him when she wore those stupid shorts. When she walked around in nothing but his shirt. 

“James?” She asked, snapping him from his monologue. His eyes snapped to her, finding her watching him, book closed in her lap. “...Can I ask you something?” She asked, rather hesitantly. 

“Sure.” He said, shifting slightly to try and relieve some of the ache he’d started to feel. 

“Would you ever...touch me?” 

His first response was no. His brain snapping to all the horrible things that had happened to her. He didn’t want to add himself to that list a third time. 

“Intimately?” 

He was taken aback. That was not what he was expecting. Maybe he was guilty for thinking about her that way, and his brain had settled to punish him by giving him such horrible thoughts. But he hadn’t thought about the other meaning of her words. Would he? He wanted to. A minute ago he had been thinking about teasing her, touching her. But now that she’d asked...he didn’t know. What would her reaction be if he said yes? Would she run again? Would she shy away from him? What if he said no? Would she be relieved? Would she be disappointed? Did she want him to say yes? 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She said, shifting slightly. “And...” She leaned forward, staring down at his metal hand where it was sitting on the couch beside him. “If you’d like to...” Her voice took on a husky tone as she grabbed his flesh hand, placing it by her ankle. “You could.” 

She leaned back and he took a moment to breathe as he soaked in the warmth of her skin under his hand. He could see the nerves in her eyes, but there was also something else there. She wasn’t nervous because he was touching her. She was nervous because she was wondering if she crossed a line. He looked down at his hand, rough and scarred against her smooth, pale complexion. 

He slowly ran his fingers up her leg, centimeter by centimeter, wanting to savor the way her skin felt under his hand, calloused from decades of handling weapons. He had such a rough exterior. He was a soldier. But yet, now, his fingers move with a delicacy he didn’t even know he possessed. 

As his fingers passed over her knee, he glanced up at her. Her chest was heaving, as she breathed, her bottom lip between her teeth. She did that alot, he noticed. He’d never payed much attention to it, but right there, at that moment, he wanted to bite it himself. 

He pushed her legs apart, sliding his body between them. His right elbow held himself up on the arm of the couch behind her, his left hand resting on her bare outer thigh. He felt the shiver run through her as the cold metal touched her skin. Her book thumped to the floor as she lifted her hands to his face, bringing her lips to his. Their kisses started off slow and gentle, but the emotions between them grew, and they turned into small nips, and an occasional lick. James took her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly before pulling away a hair so she could catch her breath. He looked into her eyes, her gaze hitting him right in his core and he knew he was screwed. 


	52. Heat

James wrapped his flesh arm around her back, pressing her closer to him as his tongue explored her mouth. His metal hand slid up her leg, over the curve of her hip to rest on her ribs, pushing her shirt up slightly in the process. She whined, her hips moving, rubbing against him.  He shifted his body so he was between her legs, pressing fully against her. He felt her whole body stiffen, the hands that had been running up and down his back were suddenly gripping his shirt. He pulled away, seeing the tears waterfalling down her face. He immediately removed his metal hand, thinking he’s hurt her, but when a sob left her, he understood. 

“I’m sorry.” She cried, and he pulled her into his arms, letting her cry into his shoulder. 

He held himself up with his metal arm, rubbing her back with the other. Her hands were still fisted in his shirt, holding her as she cried. He was half hard, lust still rushing through his system, but he shoved it down, instead focusing on trying to comfort her. He knew it would take time. She wouldn’t just jump right in with him. With everything that had happened, he was amazed he’d made it this far. 

He lifted her, moving so she was sitting on his lap, his arms wrapping around her. She cried for a while, gripping onto him for dear life. 

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered after a while. “I want to...so bad, but I...I can’t. I can’t get them out of my head.” 

“Shh.” He hushed her, shifting her slightly to relieve some of the pressure from his still partially hard member. “It’s okay. I knew we wouldn’t make it that far. You’re still healing. It’s going to take some time.” 

“But what about you?” She could still feel him, pressing against her.

“I’ll be fine. This is about you. We don’t have to rush into things. We can take it as slow as you need.” 

“James?” She asked. 

“Yeah, doll?” 

She sat up, looking him in the eye. “Thank you.” 

She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. They stayed like that, curled up together on the couch, sharing sweet kisses here and there for a while, until James moved Olivia to bed. He tucked her in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before flipping off the light before going into the bathroom. He hadn’t let on how painful it had gotten, even just being half hard. His main focus was Olivia, making sure she was comfortable. She was okay. 

He undid his belt, shoving his jeans down around his ankles, along with his briefs. He stared down at himself for a moment. This was the first time he’d been like this at his own free will in 70 years. It made him a little guilty, knowing the last time he’d felt this way, it had been another man making him hard, getting him ready to...he swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing that memory away. I guess he should have just been happy he could still get it up after that long. It had taken a while to reawaken those parts of his brain after being shoved down for so long, but now...now he kind of wished he could shut it down again. 

He wrapped his hand around his length, pumping slowly. He remembered doing this vaguely, a long time ago. He’d rubbed one out many times before, but now...things were different. He gripped the edge of the sink for support as he stood over the toilet, rubbing one out, while the cause of it laid in bed just outside the door. He felt almost dirty, guilty for doing it, but he needed release. 

He teased his head, feeling the fluid starting to drip from his tip. His hips jerked forward as he choked the head of his cock, a moan escaping him. His breathing had picked up, gasps and broken moans leaving him as he pumped his hand faster, trying to imagine what Olivia’s hand on him would feel like. Her touch was so delicate, so soft. Maybe she’d use her mouth. He’d had a dame do that to him once, but she had nearly made him bleed with her teeth. But Olivia, with that sweet little mouth of hers. Those soft, plump lips. 

His back arched, his hips jerking, a sinful moan leaving his lips as he came, spurting hot seed into the toilet. He bent over, breathing hard as he milked the last of his seed from his length with his hand. His heart was pounding in his ears as he reached over, flushing the toilet. He felt guilty for thinking like that. Dirty. He washed his hands, cleaning himself with a rag before tucking himself back in his briefs. 

He opened the door slowly, the smell of arousal hitting his sensitive nose hard, all of the blood in his body rushing south again. 

****   
I hadn’t meant to start crying. Everything had been fine, but when he shifted, moving between my legs, I was suddenly back in D.C, Rumlow over me, taunting me. I couldn’t help it. I felt guilty, knowing I wanted to move further, but my stupid brain wouldn’t let me. I cried out of shame and guilt, and because of the pain keeping me from going forward. 

I wasn’t sure how long I cried, but James eventually moved us into a sitting position, and I could feel him through his jeans, pressing against me. Even when he shifted me slightly, trying to relieve the pressure. I cried more, knowing how painful that had to be. And it was all my fault. 

“I’m sorry.” I said. “I want to...so bad, but I...I can’t. I can’t get them out of my head.” 

“Shh.” He hushed me. “It’s okay. I knew we wouldn’t make it that far. You’re still healing. It’s going to take some time.” 

“But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine. This is about you. We don’t have to rush into things. We can take it as slow as you need.” 

“James?” I asked, after a moment. 

“Yeah, doll?” 

I sat up, looking him in the eye. His eyes were so beautiful. “Thank you.” 

I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. He tasted good. Like coffee and the cookies we’d had after dinner. We stayed that way for a while, cuddled on the couch, sharing kisses every once in a while. I was close to being asleep on his shoulder when he moved me, tucking me into bed. He pressed a kiss to my forehead as he tucked me in, making sure I was comfortable before shutting off the light and moving into the bathroom. 

I laid there in the dark, praying for sleep to come. But my luck, it didn’t happen. The first moan had my eyes shooting open. It was breathy, and quiet, but I still heard it, because apparently I have super hearing when it comes to this. The second moan was louder, desperate. I tried not to picture what he was doing. The look on his face, the breathy ‘fuck’ that seemed to echo in my ears. 

I began to feel warm. I shifted slightly, nothing seeming to be comfortable. I squirmed, my thighs rubbing together causing a friction I didn’t know I needed. My back arched slightly as I repeated the movement. James’ moans got louder, and they went straight between my legs. My underwear was wet, my breaths picking up as I tried to find something that was comfortable. James let out a final, long moan and I whimpered, curling in on myself. I really felt guilty now, if this was what it was like...I felt bad for making him sit that long. 

I heard the toilet flush, and the sink run, and I tried to calm myself down enough to make it seem like everything was normal, and I’d slept through the whole thing. But when the door opened, and he froze in the doorway, I knew I wasn’t so lucky. 


	53. Off To The Races

Both of us were frozen. We were both breathing heavily, and I was sure his heart was racing just as fast as mine was. 

“James?” I breathed, not able to turn around. 

I heard him move, the bed dipping down behind me. I held my breath as he leaned over me, his breath hitting my cheek. I felt goosebumps rise over my skin as his fingers ghosted down my arm. 

“I can help you.” He whispered, his hand closing around mine that was gripping the sleeping bag. “But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Or afraid.” He uncurled my fingers from the sleeping bag, his hand just inches from where I wanted him to touch me. 

I shoved my nerves down, rolling onto my back. His hand splayed out on my stomach, warm through my t-shirt. I reached up, tangling my hands in his hair to bring his lips to mine. Our kiss was hot, and passionate. Needy. His hand started to trail lower, moving much to slow for me. 

“Don't stop kissing me.” I whispered, breaking a way for a second, before nearly attacking him again. 

I gripped his wrist, almost shoving his hand between my legs so he was cupping me. I shuddered a little, feeling his hand on me. It was so strange, being touched like that in a situation like this. I had never been touched intimately. It had always been rough, non-consensual grabbing. I had never asked anyone...wanted anyone to touch me before. But now...now that was all I could think about. 

I opened my legs wider as his hand slipped under my shorts, the calloused pads of his fingers running the length of my slit. My back arched, my hips jerking as he rubbed a certain spot, a whine leaving my lips. 

“Shh.” He murmured, kissing his way down my throat. 

My head tilted back as he nibbled along my jaw, offering more of myself to him. I gasped as one of his fingers pushed into me. He stilled his finger, pressing kisses along the skin below my ear. I whined a little, his metal arm moving under my shoulders. He started moving his finger, pushing in and out of me slowly. I tangled my hand in his hair, feeling the silky strands slip between my fingers. My back arched as he pushed a second finger in, stretching my walls. I hadn’t known it could feel like this. I didn’t know I could feel like this. 

There was no guilt, no shame, no fear. It didn’t hurt. There was no discomfort, no rough, hard movements. James was taking his time, making me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. And at that moment, I didn’t want it to be anyone but him. 

*****

James had nearly come undone when he’d felt how tight she was. He had been shocked when she’d moved his hand, cupping her warm sex. She had soaked through her shorts, all because of him. She had told him not to stop kissing her, and he didn’t think that was possible. He wanted to taste her, every inch of skin. He wanted to feel everything, explore her body in ways he hadn’t been able to before. But he knew he couldn’t rush into things. He had to take it slow. Make her understand that it could feel good. 

He slipped his hand under her shorts as he kissed her, feeling the slick wetness of her folds. He found the sensitive bundle of nerves, her back arching as he teased it. A whine left her lips and he kissed his way down her throat, tasting her skin. 

He shifted slightly, sliding his metal arm under her back, holding her as he slipped a finger into her wet heat. Her walls immediately clamped around his digit, a gasp leaving her at the intrusion. He stilled, pressing soft kisses under her ear, waiting for her to push him away. When she didn’t, he started moving his finger, her hands tangling in his hair. He worked her a little, trying to stretch her out before he added a second finger, her back arching, pressing her chest to his. 

His jeans were tight against him, rubbing painfully as he nipped at her collarbone, exposed by the baggy shirt she wore. Probably one of his, actually. He sped his fingers up, enjoying the gasps and whines that left her lips, her back arching as he curled his fingers, hitting a deep spot inside her. She gripped his wrist, pulling his head away from her neck. She looked into his eyes, her mouth parted as she breathed, face flushed, hair fanned out on the pillow. He hadn’t seen anything so beautiful before. 

“Do that again.” She whispered, gripping on to him for dear life. 

He watched her head fall back, a moan leaving her as he curled his fingers, hitting that spot over and over. Her back arched, body trembling as her walls gripped his fingers, before she went tumbling over the edge. He felt his length twitch in his jeans from the way he said his name. Like a prayer as she breathed, his fingers working her through her orgasm. 

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips as he withdrew his fingers, wiping them on his shirt. Her chest was heaving as she breathed, coming down from her high. 

“You okay?” He asked, running his thumb over his cheek. 

“I...I’ve never...I didn’t…” She tried to speak, but couldn’t form words. 

“It’s okay. It’s supposed to feel like that.” He said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

He rolled on his back, slipping his arm from under her. He went to get up and go to the bathroom, but she caught his arm. He turned back to her, finding her leaning on her arm, biting that damn lip again. 

“Can...can I do it?” Her tone was soft, hesitant. 

“Doll, you don’t have to do that.” 

“But I want to.” 

He stood up, telling himself this wasn’t a good idea as he undid his belt, slipping out of his jeans. He laid back down, relaxing as she sat up, tracing the line of skin above his briefs. His breath hitched, muscles contracting at the feather light touch. He could feel himself leaking, creating a wet spot on his briefs. She hooked her fingers under the waistband, pulling them down slowly. He was nearly standing at attention he was so hard, and he knew this would be over quick. Especially when she wrapped her hand around him. 

She turned her head, looking at his face as she pumped his length. It was better than he had imagined, her hand warm, skin soft. He met her eyes, watching her as she jerked him off, her eyes never leaving his face. He moaned as her grip tightened a little, his hips jerking slightly. She pumped him faster, his mouth falling open, moans escaping his chest. 

“Oh, fuck.” He said, sitting up on his elbows as his hips jerked. 

His length twitched as he came with a groan. Falling back on the mattress. She pumped him through his orgam, his seed landing mostly on his shirt, and some on her hand. She lifted her hand to her mouth and he watched as she licked his semen from her skin. He closed his eyes, feeling his length twitch again as he pulled his shirt over his head. He reached down to pull his briefs up, but she pushed him back, straddling his lap. Her fingers ran over the scarred flesh of his left shoulder, feeling all the bumps and grooves where metal met flesh. 

“Doll, don’t-” 

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to the skin, kissing her way up his shoulder. She pulled back, fingering the edge of her shirt. She was biting her lip again, driving him insane. 

“You’re gonna get yourself in trouble, biting your lip like that.” He said, leaning forward. 

He reached out, licking the skin under her lip, earning a gasp in response. He took that opportunity to take her bottom lip between his own teeth, tugging on it lightly. 

“That’s my lip to bite.” He said, gently brushing his nose against hers. She started tugging her shirt up, pulling away from him, but he stopped her. “You don’t have to-” 

He was cut off when she lifted her shirt over her head, revealing herself to him. He couldn’t help his wandering eyes as he took her in. His flesh hand was on her thigh, holding her while his metal hand was avoiding touching her. He didn’t want to risk hurting her on accident. She grabbed his left hand, holding it so his palm was facing her. She ran her fingers over the metal plates, the intricate workings underneath. He held his breath as she moved his hand to her breast, forming the metal so he was cupping it. All sensation was lost, except warmth, and the light weight of it. 

“You don’t have to be scared of touching me.” She said, holding his hand to her breast. 

He brushed his metal thumb over her nipple, a gasp leaving her lips at the sensation of the cool metal and the small bud. He ran his flesh hand up her other side, cupping her other breast as well. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, taking her lip between her teeth. This was going to be a long night. 


	54. The Place You Lose Your Fears

Bucky’s hands were running down Olivia’s sides, feeling the softness of her skin with one hand, and the warmth with the other. His lips closed over her clit, her hips jerking in response. He held her down, leaning down slightly to probe her entrance with his tongue, tasting her. She was sweet, but with a tangy hint underneath. He could have stayed there for days. But they had more pressing things to get to. She was already wet from his teasing, close to a second orgasm of the night. He circled her clit with his tongue one last time, sucking it into his mouth before moving up her body again. He pressed a kiss to her stomach before sliding up in between her legs, the tip of his length rubbing against her folds. They were both drunk from lust, neither thinking with their rational minds. 

Bucky laced his fingers with hers as he pressed forward, leaning his forehead against hers. She whined slightly at the stretch, so he stopped, letting her adjust, keeping that rhythm until he was fully seated inside her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him there for a moment. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips, releasing her hands so he could wrap his arms around her back. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin slightly as he started moving, inch by inch drawing out of her, before pushing right back in. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, doll.” He breathed, looking down into her eyes. 

She whined, biting her lip as his hips jerked slightly. “Do that again.” She breathed, her chest heaving. 

He quickened his movements, keeping it slow and deep, leaning over her on his metal elbow, the other hand slipping between them. Her back arched, a sinful moan leaving her lips as he teased her. His mouth dropped to her exposed throat, sucking another mark on her skin. She was already littered with hickeys, and he added another. 

“Fuck, James!” She cried, hands gripping the sleeping bag as she shook, her walls clamping around him. 

He groaned into her neck, speeding up his thrusts, tossing her over the edge, her walls spasming around him as she came. A high pitched whine left her, her fingers digging into his back, but he didn’t care. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was loud around them as he leaned back over her, lacing their fingers together as he thrust hard into her, nearing his release, and bringing her to a second as well. Well, it was more like third of the night. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth open in a silent moan, fingers gripping his tightly as she came again, her walls milking his orgasm from him as well. He collapsed over her, his head resting on the pillow next to her. His hips moved in lazy thrusts as he came down from his high. They laid there for a while, both breathing, still completely attached. 

“You okay, doll?” He murmured, his breath fanning against her ear. 

******

I didn’t say answer as I stared up at the ceiling in the nearly dark apartment. Reality had hit me, coming down from that high. James was still inside me, going slightly soft, starting to get uncomfortable. I’d been so lost...so full of lust and longing I’d just stopped feeling. And now...I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. I hadn’t meant for things to go that far. I had been so desperate for release that I’d let him touch me. I wanted him to touch me. 

I shifted under him, slipping my hands from his. He got the hint, moving his hips until he pulled out of me, making me whine slightly at the feeling. It had felt good. It was better than anything I’d ever felt before. It was a learning experience. A confirmation that sex could feel good. That it wasn’t all rough, painful and bloody. No forced movements or touches. I’d been the one that had initiated it. 

“Doll?” James asked, leaning over me, his tone concerned. 

I felt slightly sick. “Can we talk in the morning?” I asked, my voice hoarse, and cracking slightly. 

I rolled on my side, curling in on myself. I wasn’t mad at him. I was glad it was with him. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else. But now...would things be weird? Could we stand being in the same room as each other? Could I stand being in the same room as him? 

I felt him shift behind me, and my shirt was dropped in front of me. I grabbed it, slipping it over my head to give myself just a little decency. The sleeping bag was pulled over my shoulders, and I heard the zipper move as James zipped us in. His back was to me, his warmth radiating against my back. I curled further in on myself, praying the morning would be slow coming. 

****

James could hear her crying as he laid in the darkness. Her sobs were silent, but he could hear the light sniffles as she tried to quiet herself. Damn it. He knew he should have stopped her. But he’d been so lost in the moment, so high from the lust he’d gone with it, not thinking about the consequences. He wanted to show her sex could feel good. He wanted her to know it was something that could be enjoyed. With him. And oh god, did he enjoy it. He knew she did too, in the heat of the moment. But he knew she was guilty now. And it had been his fault. He should have been thinking with his brain, not his head. 

He felt like hitting something, but he didn’t. He tried to calm himself down, waiting for Olivia’s breaths to slow, for her to fall asleep. Maybe things would be better in the morning, once she’d had some time to sleep on it. Time to think. A guy could hope, right? 

He was wrong. She slept well past when he did. He ate his plum, read a little of The Great Gatsby before he made breakfast, hoping the smell would wake her. And it did. He heard the bathroom door shut as he grabbed the milk, noting they’d need more soon. He offered her a plate of eggs and fruit, noting how she avoided his gaze as she took it, moving to sit on the couch. He stood in the kitchen, eating, studying how she bent over her plate, eating silently. She seemed so small there, so...innocent. It made what had transpired between them last night feel much worse. 

“James?” She finally said, her voice strained, weak. “I’m sorry. For last night. The way I acted. I...I didn’t want to pressure you into anything. I don’t...I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“I’m sorry too.” He said, looking down at his eggs. “I should have been thinking. Stopped you from going too far. Making yourself uncomfortable.” He abandoned his plate, moving so he was sitting on the couch next to her. “I should have kept you from doing something you’d regret.” 

“I don’t regret it.” She said. Her blonde hair was blocking his view of her face. “It was...incredible.” She finally looked at him, eyes shining slightly. “And I wouldn’t take it back. I just...I don’t want things to be awkward between us.” 

“They don’t have to be.” He said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “They won’t be. We can do it again, or we don’t have to ever again. It’s your decision. Whatever you want.” 

She bit her lip, looking over at him in his sweatpants and t-shirt. She turned, placing her plate on the counter before straddling his lap, pressing her lips to his. 


	55. Not Hopeless After All

The weeks went on. I went back to work, and James went back to doing whatever it was he did. Probably stalking me, and following me everywhere I went. It was nice, though, having some time apart after all the time we’d spent together. But when we were together, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. It was like a dam had been broken, and now we couldn’t get enough. We had sex almost every night. Sometimes multiple times a night. And sometimes in the morning. I’d gotten back on birth control, not wanting a scare. And James had voiced his thoughts that there was a chance HYDRA had sterilized him. But I wasn’t going to take that chance if they hadn’t. 

I had gone to the store on my way home from work. I wanted to make a nice dinner for us tonight, to celebrate our almost year of freedom. I wasn’t exactly sure on the dates, but that didn’t matter. We hadn’t had a run in with HYDRA in a year. We’d managed to stay safe, well...mostly safe, and hidden away. I was lost in thought as I climbed the one hundred and fifty stairs to our apartment. Actually, it was probably more than that, but who was counting? 

So when I was grabbed on the landing of the stairs on some random floor, I nearly peed myself. I was terrified, thinking our year was over before we could even celebrate it. I was screwed. Or at least I thought I was. I mean, what kind of boyfriend just jumps out and grabs their girlfriend when they’re least expecting it? Oh yeah, the wanted-ex-assassin kind.

I hit the ground hard, thankful I had been holding my backpack in my hands, and it had just thumped down a foot away. I stared up at James, his face set, eyes focused on me. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, staring from his face, to the hand on my chest. 

“You were distracted. If I were HYDRA, you’d be dead.” 

“Yeah, I figured that much.” I said, letting him help me up. 

“You need to learn to defend yourself. I can’t have you getting hurt from something that could have been avoided.” 

“So what? You’re going to train me to defend myself?”    
“Exactly.” 

I had lost count of how many times my back had hit the ground. In the couple hours we’d been at it, I had maybe landed once decent punch. Granted, it was nothing to him. He barely flinched. When my back hit the ground for a fiftieth time, I stayed down, laying there like a beached whale, trying to breathe. 

“Get up.” James demanded. 

“Wait...I gotta...I gotta breathe...” 

James sighed, straddling my hips so he was leaning over me. He gripped my chin in his flesh hand, his metal hand holding him up. “When you’re fighting, your opponent isn’t going to stop and let you breathe. They’ll use your weakness against you, and your dead.” He leaned down closer to my face, the ends of his hair tickling my cheeks. “And I don’t want to see that happen.” He whispered, looking into my eyes. 

I leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. He kissed me back, sliding his hand under my head. I used his distraction to flip him over so I was sitting on his chest. I grabbed the discarded gun, pressing it to his temple. 

“Like that?” I breathed, my lips hovering over his. 

He grabbed my wrist, bending it behind my back as he sat up, my body sliding into his lap. “Maybe you’re not hopeless after all.” He said, nipping at my throat. 

The gun dropped from my hand as he stood up, walking until my back hit the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist, holding him to me as he kissed my neck, sucking marks into my skin. My hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands, making him groan. His metal hand cupped my ass, supporting me as his flesh hand worked its way under my shirt, cupping my breast through my bra. My hips rolled against his, pressing my body closer to his as he worked on unbuttoning my jeans. I dropped to the floor, shoving them down my legs before kicking them off. I hooked my leg around his, pushing him to the floor. He grunted as his back made contact with the hardwood. 

“Now you take what I said seriously?” He asked as I straddled his waist. 

I just grinned at him, biting my lip as my hips rocked against his. His head fell back against the floor, his chest heaving. I ran my hands up and down his shirt clad chest as I continued rubbing my center against his jean clad one. I was soaking wet by the time he grabbed my hips, stilling me. 

“Keep that up, we won’t get to the good part.” He said, his voice low and rough. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat, staring into his eyes. He shifted under me, reaching down to undo his jeans. I sat up, helping him push them down around his knees, before his briefs followed. I pumped him a couple times before lining him up and sinking down onto him. We both groaned at the feeling, my walls stretching around him. I stilled, completely seated on his hips, staring down into his eyes. I grabbed his hands, placing them on my hips as I began to move, rocking my hips slowly. Both of us were breathing hard, and there was almost no blue left in his eyes, his pupils blown wide. 

My hands moved to his abs, holding myself up as I began to move, lifting and lowering myself. I could feel the muscles contracting as he breathed, his biceps bulging under his shirt as he gripped my hips, moving me up and down on his length. Granted one of them was metal and always looked like that, but there was no denying the raw power he held without the cybernetic appendage. But he could be gentle. I’d seen it. 

He gripped my hips tighter, shifting under me so he could thrust up into me, hitting that one spot that always did it for me, over and over again. 

“Fuck.” I whined, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt. “Fuck, James, don’t stop!” 

My head fell back, a cry leaving my lips as his fingers found my clit. I could feel it start to build, heat pooling inside me. He pulled me forward, his metal hand cupping my face as his flesh arm wrapped around my hips. My mouth fell open in a moan as he hit a new angle inside me, my walls fluttering around him as I came. His metal thumb traced my bottom lip as his hips stuttered, his pace growing sloppy as he grew close to the edge. He thrust a couple more times before stilling, spilling into me. 

I laid my head on his chest, listening to his pounding heart as we came down from our highs. We were both sweaty and sticky, but neither of us really cared. I leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, his hands running up and down my back. 

“I’m going to make us dinner tonight.” I said, shifting my hips so he pulled out of me. “But I think I need a shower first.” 

“Me too.” He kissed me a second time. “Want to conserve water?” 

I laughed, hitting his chest before standing, pulling my jeans back on. He did the same, grabbing our training equipment before following me out of the abandoned room. 

“Am I really hopeless?” I asked as we started up the stairs. 

“No.” He said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “No, you’re not. You just need practice. Lots of it.” 


	56. Confessions

James and I were walking, hand in hand down the street. I’d talked him into going to the market with me, wanting to get out of the apartment for a while. We hardly left the bed when we were there, and I knew a break would do us well. 

Until I saw the headline of a newspaper. It was about the Avengers, and something that happened in Sokovia. I stopped, grabbing one of the papers to glance through the story. James wrapped his arms around my waist, scanning the area around us before resting his head on my shoulder, reading the story as well. I couldn’t read the whole thing, my Romanian not quite that good yet. But I could pick out what happened. A robot Tony Stark helped create killed a bunch of people in Sokovia when he made part of the city fly. The Avengers had stopped it, but a lot of people had died in the process. 

James pried the paper from my hands, folding it before putting it back. He kept his arm around my waist, his grip on my hip tight as he steered me back towards the apartment. I could feel the nervous tension running through him as we walked. Well, he walked. I was being dragged. 

He practically broke down the door to the apartment, stumbling through, his hands fisted in his hair. 

“James?” I asked quietly as he bent over the table, breathing hard. “James? Are you-” 

“Don’t come near me.” He said, his tone harsh. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

I rolled my eyes. In sight, I really probably should have listened to him, but I wasn’t thinking like that in that moment. “You’re not going to hurt me.” I said, reaching out to touch his trembling shoulder. 

He spun, catching my wrist in his metal hand. I whimpered as I felt the bones in my wrist grind together, but I tried not to let the pain show. 

“James, it’s okay. You’re safe.” 

“I’ll never be safe.” He growled, yanking me closer to his face.

“Yes, you will. We will. We have been for a year now. What makes you think that will change?” 

“They’ll find us eventually. We’ll have to run...” He trailed off, wincing slightly. 

“James...” 

I suddenly hit the floor, stars erupting in my vision and my breath leaving me. He was on me in an instant, his knee digging into my stomach. I coughed for breath as he wrapped his hand around my neck. I saw an opening, thinking back to his training. 

“Sorry.” I gasped before throwing a fist directly between his legs. 

He groaned, rolling off me. I coughed, gasping for air. He rolled on his back, and I moved over him, kneeling on his arms to keep them pinned. Well...one of them pinned. 

“James.” I said, gripping his shoulders. “James, it’s okay. It’s Olivia.” 

He groaned, his eyes fluttering before he shook his head, looking up at me. “Olivia?” 

I breathed a sigh of relief, leaning my head down on his chest as I released his arms. “Thank god.” I sighed. 

“What happened. I didn’t...I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No.” I said, sitting up on his stomach. “Not really. But I should probably get you some ice.” 

“Why would I need ice?” He asked, trying to get up, but stopped, a groan leaving him. 

“I kinda punched you in the family jewels to stop you from choking me.” 

“Nice job.” He said, rolling on his side. 

“You’re in crippling pain from a cheap shot, and you’re telling me ‘nice job?’” 

“Yeah. You defended yourself. Who cares if it was a cheap shot?” He said, taking the bag of ice I handed him. 

“You really mean that?” I asked, sitting down on the floor by him. 

“Yeah. You’re a woman. Don’t ever be ashamed about a cheap shot. Sometimes, it’s your only option.” 

“Good to know.” I said, brushing his hair from his face. It was silent between us for a second. “You wanna talk about it?” 

He rolled on his back, staring up at the ceiling, still holding the ice to his crotch. “I used to be so protective of Steve. I usually had to save him from being beaten to a pulp in an alleyway. He could have been seriously hurt, or died in that fight in Sokovia. Seeing that...just kind of set me off for a moment.” 

“Wow...” Was all I could say. 

“I mean, he’s strong now. I’ve seen him fight...I’ve fought him. I know he can handle himself. But I still get worried.”

“He was your best friend. I get it. You’re still feel protective over him, even though you don’t really know why.” I said, rubbing the back of my head. 

“Are you okay?” He asked when I winced. 

“Yeah, I just...hit my head when you threw me on the ground. Nothing more than a bump.” 

He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me down so he could inspect the back of my head. I felt something cold and melty touch my head and realized he’d put the ice on the back of my head. I sat up, his metal hand holding the bag of ice in place as I moved. 

“You need it more than I do.” He said when I went to protest. “I can’t feel anything anyways.” 

“You might have given me another concussion.” I said, squinting at his face. 

“Aww, maybe I need to kiss it better.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, working his way down to my lips. 

I giggled, scrunching my nose as he pressed a sloppy kiss on it. He cradled my face with his hand as he pressed his lips to mine. 

“I’m sorry.” He breathed, his lips brushing mine as he spoke. 

“It’s okay. Accidents happen. You’re teaching me to defend myself. That’s the most important thing.” 

He leaned his forehead against mine. “I just hoped you wouldn’t have to use it. Especially against me.” 

“But I found a way out, and didn’t get hurt...” He gave me a look. “Too badly. I’ve had worse.” I shrugged, but regretted it when I saw the look on his face. 

I leaned forward again, pressing a kiss to his lips. His thumb ran over my cheekbone as he cradled me close. I could tell he was still in pain, but he ignored it, taking care of me instead. I had never been more sure I was in love with someone, than I was in that moment.

We ended up curled up on the couch, sharing sweet kisses. James continued to check and make sure I wasn’t concussed, wanting to be sure I was safe to sleep tonight. I knew he’d stay up with me if I wasn’t, even though he was exhausted. Or at least he looked that way. 

“James?” I asked, shifting slightly so I was facing him as much as I could. My legs were still thrown across his lap, his hands resting on my jean clad thigh. “Can...can I confess something...to you?” 

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel a nervous sweat start to build up. I could see the tension within him, and I knew he was thinking the worst. I was secretly HYDRA, they knew where we were and were standing outside the door. Or maybe something worse than that. 

“I...” I looked down at my hands, fiddling nervously. “I...” I looked back up at him, staring deeply into those beautiful grey-blue eyes. “I love you, James.” 


	57. Love

James was frozen. Her words echoed in his head as she stared at him. He had been so sure she was betraying him. He had been ready to enact his escape plan when she told him those three words. The way she’d hesitated had his blood pumping, heart racing, ready to jump away and run for it. The thought of leaving her was physically painful, but if she had betrayed him after all this time...after everything they went through...he still wasn’t entirely sure he could do it. But when she had finally told him...he didn’t know what to do. It had shocked him, not expecting that to be her confession. He’d been so ready, so deep in the fighting mindset...to say those four words took him by surprise was an understatement. 

Did he love her? 

That was a stupid question. Of course he did. He’d loved her for a while now. Before he even knew what to call it. Could he tell her though? Could he make the words come out? He had wanted to tell her. So many times when they’d laid together, in post-orgasm bliss. He’d wanted to tell her. When she was glowing in his arms, a blissful smile on her face because of the way he’d made her feel. He had wanted to say it, but he couldn’t drag it from his lips. He couldn’t form the words. So he’d chickened, and told himself next time. He’d told himself next time so many times. Too many times. 

He leaned forward, cupping her face in his hand and pulled her lips to his. He kissed her with more passion and love than he ever had before, and she melted against him. He tugged her so she was straddling his lap, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as her fingers tangled in his hair. He lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed. He laid her out on the mattress, staring down at her, her hair fanned out on the pillow, lips parted as her chest heaved. He pressed his body against hers, molding them together as he kissed her again. She fit against him like a puzzle piece. She was all soft, delicate curves, and he was harsh, rough angles. They were such opposites, but yet, they were perfect. 

His lips moved to her neck, sucking marks on her skin as his hands slipped under her shirt. The contrast between the cold metal, and the warm flesh had her gasping, arching against him. He sucked a mark on her neck as his hands slipped under her bra, kneading the flesh gently. She whined as he pulled away to remove her shirt and bra. He shushed her, leaning forward to take a nipple in his mouth. Her back arched as he worked the sensitive bud, swirling his tongue around it, before taking it between his teeth. A breathy moan left her as he tugged on her nipple before releasing it, moving to her other breast to give it the same attention. Her hands tugged at his shirt, so he pulled away to let her tug it over his head. 

He held her gaze as he kissed his way down her stomach, pausing to dip his tongue in her belly button, before moving lower. He held her hips down as he sucked a mark on the skin above her jeans. She was his. He didn’t need to mark her to solidify that. He’d made her feel more than any man had before. He’d made her feel good. And that’s all that mattered. 

He tugged her jeans off, as well as her underwear, before parting her legs. She was soaking wet already, biting her lip as she watched him kiss his way up her thigh. He nipped at her inner thigh, before tossing her legs over his shoulders. Her hand tangled in his hair as he licked a stripe up her slit. He could hear the shift in her breathing as he teased her bundle of nerves with his tongue, his mouth moving to taste her opening, before moving back up. She moaned as he gathered some of her wetness on his metal fingers, taking her hand in his flesh hand before slipping two metal fingers inside her. 

He could feel her, hot around him, her walls clamping down around the metal digits. He hadn’t touched her with his metal hand before, too scared to hurt her. But by the way she was squirming and moaning, he knew he’d made a good decision. 

He continued his ministrations, bringing her to the edge, then backing off, wanting to drag it out as long as possible. He wanted to watch her beautiful face as she came undone, watch her shake as the pleasure rolled through her. And he wasn’t disappointed. Her back arched beautifully, lifting off the mattress as she spasmed around his fingers. He felt his length twitch in his jeans at the sight, his name nothing more than a cry from her lips. He smirked, working her through her orgasm before he pulled his fingers from her folds. 

He crawled back up her body, her hand taking his metal wrist before lifting his fingers into her mouth. He felt the heat of her tongue against them as she licked them clean. He twitched again, rutting his hips against hers. She whined a little, her hips grinding against his, trying to get some friction. He pulled his fingers from her lips, pressing a kiss to them before he stood, stripping out of his jeans. He stared down at her as he ran his hand down his length. She was spread out on the mattress, her folds slick again as she stared at him with hooded eyes. He kneeled back on the bed, covering her body with his. 

He eased himself into her, taking his time to let her adjust. He kissed her jaw, nipping at the delicate skin of her neck until he was fully seated in her. He paused for a moment, resting his forehead against hers, staring down into her eyes before he started moving. Inch by inch he pulled out of her, before pushing back in. He wanted her to feel him. This was about her. He wanted to show her he loved her. They weren’t just fucking like they usually did. A quickie in the morning before she left for work, then another after dinner before bed. He wanted this to be special. He wanted her to remember this. 

He gradually picked up speed, this thrusts deep as he held her, his hips moving against hers. Her nails dug into his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He barely felt it as he stared into her eyes. He saw something flash behind them, before she was stopping him. 

“Wait.” She breathed, her hand on his back stilling him. 

He leaned up on his hands and knees, scared he’d hurt her. She sat up slightly, causing him to slip from her as she turned, laying on her stomach under him. He remembered the last time they’d been in this position. In the couple months they’d been sleeping together, she had never turned her back to him. He hadn’t suggested it, knowing her memories of that position. He stared down at her back, the curve of her spine. He could see her shoulder blades sticking out as she gripped the sleeping bag under her. He hadn’t payed attention to things like that the first time. He hadn’t paid attention to much of anything the first time. He was being controlled. He hadn’t cared that it was a person under him. He hadn’t cared that she was a virgin. He hadn’t cared that he’d hurt her in so many ways. But now...now the guilt washed over him. 

She must have sensed his hesitation. She reached back, gripping his length before guiding him back into her. He lowered himself to his elbows over her, her hands coming around to grip his biceps. He started moving again, slowly, hesitantly. He brushed her hair over one shoulder, pressing his lips to exposed skin. 

He heard her breathy moans as he sped up, hitting that spot deep inside her with every movement. Her hands tightened on his biceps, her head falling back as he sped up even more, his hips hitting her ass with every thrust. His name was like a prayer on her lips, her back arching as her walls squeezed him tightly. He could feel his own release nearing, his breath fanning over her back as he grunted into her shoulder. He lightly bit the skin as she came, her walls fluttering around him. She was still gripping his biceps, her head falling forward as he continued thrusting, not taking long to reach his release as well. 

He rolled off her, laying beside her as they both caught their breath. He looked over to her, where she was shaking slightly from her orgasm. He turned on his side, running the fingers of his flesh hand down her spine. He saw the way her back arched slightly, hips pressing into the mattress. He pressed a kiss in between her shoulder blades, slipping his arm under her stomach to roll her on her side. He tucked himself against her back, folding his knees behind hers. His metal arm slipped under her neck, his flesh arm pulling her closer around her waist. She felt so small in his arms. Sure, they’d spooned before. They’d done it plenty of times. But this time...it felt different. 

This was more intimate. He was curled around her protectively, ready to shield her from the world. She was his first priority. Her safety, her comfort. He would fight Steve again, if he tried to take her from him. She was his world. She had helped him in ways he hadn’t realized. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost her. 

He almost didn’t want Steve to find him. He couldn’t guarantee Steve would take both of them. And the idea of leaving her alone, even here, terrified him. It made him sick to his stomach. He held her tighter, never wanting to let her go. 

He was sure she’d fallen asleep, her breathing even as they laid there, unaware of the world around them. He understood it now, what love was. What it felt like. What it meant. He was in love with Olivia. Deeply, madly in love with her. He could spend the rest of his life, laying there, protecting her. Keeping her safe. 

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I love you, too.” 

 


	58. Taking Control

“I love you, too.” 

I had almost been asleep. On the very brink when he whispered those words. They snapped me back, my eyes cracking open as a small smile formed on my face. He didn’t need to say it for me to understand. I knew he loved me too. He was an action person. He showed his love. And after what he had just done for me, there was no doubt in my mind. None whatsoever. 

I relaxed again, the content smile on my face as he pressed a kiss to the shell of my ear, before relaxing behind me, his arm gripping me tighter, if that were possible. His warmth soaked through my skin, warming me to my very core. I fell asleep, the smile never leaving my face. 

I woke up some time during the night with a heavy weight settled on top of me. We had moved around, James now laying partially on top of me, his head on my chest, and one of his legs between mine. His flesh arm was thrown over my waist, hanging off the side of the mattress. His breath was warm against my skin, his stubble scratching me, and his hair tickling me. He looked so peaceful in the low light, no signs of stress or worry. 

I reached over, taking his hand in mine, pulling it closer to me. He shifted slightly, pushing his body closer against mine as he stretched. He sighed, leaning up on his metal arm, pressing a kiss to my jaw. 

“Why are you awake?” He murmured, his voice husky as his nose brushed my cheek. 

“Just enjoying the view.” I murmured, gaining a laugh in return. 

He leaned his forehead against mine, breathing for a moment. “What time is it?” 

“I don’t know. Late? Early?” My stomach growled and he chuckled. 

“How about some food?” 

“Sounds like a good idea.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to my lips before getting up, pulling his briefs from the floor. I stretched my arms over my head, sighing as my back popped. I got up, heading to the bathroom while Bucky rummaged around the kitchen to find us something to eat. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, hickeys all over my neck, and even one by my hip. I smiled to myself, detangling my hair as much as I could before slipping out of the bathroom, grabbing James’ shirt as I walked to the kitchen. 

I wrapped my arms around James’ back as he made us oatmeal. My head leaned against the broad expanse of his back, feeling the muscle move under the skin as he stirred. My hands splayed out against his stomach, feeling the ridges of his abs. I kissed his spine as he moved, releasing him so he could grab a couple bowls from the shelf. 

I jumped up on the counter as he divided our oatmeal, my bowl significantly smaller than his. He came to stand in between my knees, handing me my bowl. We ate pretty much in silence, James still standing right in front of me. One of my feet was propped against the drawer that never completely closed, my knee resting against his hip. I reached behind me, placing my empty bowl down, before grabbing a plum. I twirled it in my fingers, sliding them along the smooth purple skin. 

James put his bowl down next to mine, his metal hand resting on my leg. I lifted the plum to his lips, holding eye contact as he bit down, taking a bite from the fruit. I tangled my hand in his hair, tugging him down towards me. I licked a line from his chin to his bottom lip where plum juice had dripped from his mouth. He pulled back away from me, gripping my wrist lightly with his metal hand, bringing the plum to my lips. I took a bite, watching his tongue dart out along his bottom lip. 

We continued that pattern, the tension between us growing. He took the seed from my hand, tossing it in one of our empty bowls before lifting my fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. His eyes stayed on mine, his pupils blown wide. I could feel the wetness start to form between my legs as I watched him. I could see his arousal through the black briefs as he released my fingers, scooping me up off the counter. He pressed his lips to mine as he walked to the mattress, neither of us planning on sleeping again. 

I woke up with James’ metal hand on the middle of my chest. A few inches up, and he could wrap it around my throat. The thought had my heart racing...but not in a bad way. I turned my head, my chin brushing the top of his head where he was laying against my shoulder. I bit my lip, picturing what he could do in that position. I bent my knees, feeling wetness starting to form between my legs again. The idea of him choking me like that had me going insane, despite the fact that the other times he’d done it, it had been an entirely different situation. 

I slipped my hand down between my legs, teasing myself. I knew he probably wouldn’t get up soon, so I would just have to take care of this myself. I slipped a finger into my center, biting my lip to stifle a gasp at the feeling. I had never touched myself before. I’d always had James to do it for me. And he always seemed to know what he was doing. 

I looked down at him again, before closing my hand over his. He shifted a little, the weight on my chest getting heavier. I slipped a second finger inside me, whimpering a little at the feeling. James shifted, looking down at me with sleepy eyes and messy hair. He blinked a couple times, getting his bearings before he realized what I was doing. 

“Fuck. Getting started without me?” His voice was heavy with sleep, sending warmth shooting straight in between my legs. 

“You were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you.” I curled my fingers, my back arching at I found that spot inside me. 

He went to move his metal hand, but I stopped him, holding his hand against my chest. It slipped a little as my back arched again, getting close to my throat. I held his eyes as I pushed it further, holding it against my neck. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he looked down at me, watching me. I whined, panting as my palm brushed my bundle of nerves. His fingers closed around my throat, his eyes staying locked on mine as I neared my orgasm, his grip tightening sending me over the edge. 

My hand stilled as he moved between my legs, pushing them open with his knees. I whined as his length brushed against my pelvis, growing harder by the second. He grabbed my wrist, pulling my fingers from my folds. His metal hand gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open as he shoved my fingers in my mouth. I closed my lips around them, licking them clean. He held my hand to my mouth as his metal hand slid down my chest, taking a nipple in his fingers, tugging on it until it was hard. He did the same with the other until they were both pebbled. 

He released me, grabbing my hips, turning me around so I was on my stomach. He grabbed my arms, bending them back behind my back, holding them with one hand while he sunk into me. I moaned, lifting my hips a little as he started pounding into me. We had been rough before, but it hadn’t ever been like this. He usually didn’t do it until I told him it was okay. But him taking control like this...it did things to me. 

I gasped as his metal hand slipped around me, wrapping around my throat. He didn’t squeeze hard enough to completely choke me, but there was enough of a grip to remind me of his strength. I was completely at his mercy, and I loved it. 

It didn’t take me long to reach the edge, between his harsh thrusts, and his metal hand, I was quickly coming undone under him, nearly crying into the pillow at the pleasure rushing through me. He picked up his pace even more, his thrusts growing sloppy as he neared the edge. He collapsed over me as he came, releasing my arms so he could keep from crushing me. His hand slipped from my throat, pushing him up so he could roll to the side. I laid there for a moment, catching my breath, feeling his seed drip out of me, on to the sleeping bag. 

“You okay?” He asked, running his flesh hand down my back. 

“Yeah.” I breathed, rolling over under him. I ran my fingers down his cheek, pulling him down for a kiss. “We should do that more often.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you, doll.” He said, shaking his head. 

“You didn’t. And you won’t.” I bit my lip. “I like it when you take control like that.” 

I felt him stiffen, a small groan leaving his lips. “Fuck, doll. The things you do to me.” He trailed off as he leaned down, pressing another steamy kiss to my lips as his hands took mine, lifting them over my head. 

Yeah, this was going to be a long day. 


	59. Not As Safe As We Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had my MRI yesterday. It went better than I thought it would. Now I just play the waiting game as to finding out the results. I should know by the end of the week (hopefully.) Whenever my doctor gets the results, and then lets me know as to what is going on. So, I'll try to post something to let everyone know what's going on when I do find out, so keep your eyes open for that.
> 
> And I really wanted to post something last weekend, but I was too stressed, and my muse left on vacation. Please forgive me?

“You want to do what?” I stared up at James like he was crazy. 

“I want to throw you across the street.” I gave him a look. “I just want to make sure it will work in case…” He sighed, trailing off. 

“You’re sure I’ll make it?” I said, looking at the rooftop across the street. 

“I’m sure. I’ll overthrow just in case.” He said, making sure the backpack on my back was secure. “You remember how to land?” 

“Tuck and roll. Watch my head.” I said, looking down at my feet. 

He cupped my chin, lifting my head. “I promise I won’t let you get hurt.” His thumb ran down my jaw. 

I looked into his crystal blue eyes, nodding my head. “Okay.” 

I turned towards the edge of the balcony, taking a deep breath. James grabbed the backpack, turning slightly, lifting me off the ground with his metal arm, before I was flying. It felt amazing for a moment. Freefalling through the air like that, until I remembered what I was doing. 

I sighed in relief as I looked down, passing over the edge of the building across the street. I tucked myself into a ball, rolling as I hit the concrete. It hurt, but I’d had worse. I rolled to a stop, taking a moment to breathe, before sticking a thumbs up into the air. I laid there for a moment, before there was a thud, and a grunt next to me. I looked over, James getting to his knees beside me. 

“You okay?” He breathed, looking over at me. 

I nodded, taking the hand he offered, letting him pull me onto my feet. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked to the fire escape. 

“Please tell me that’s the only time you need to do that.” I said, looking up at him as he waited to cross the street. 

“I won’t make you do it again...unless we don’t have a choice.” He said, taking my hand as we crossed the street to our building. 

“James...why did you want to do this?” I asked as we climbed the stairs. 

He paused, swallowing thickly, before shaking his head. “No reason.” He said quietly, moving to continue up the stairs. 

I didn’t push, but I had an idea what had brought this on. Just a few nights ago, James had woken up to a nightmare. I had woken up, getting bumped on the side as he thrashed in bed. I tried to wake him, but he was lost, deep in his subconscious. I had barely enough time to roll onto the floor before his fist came down right where I had been laying. He froze there, breathing hard, and had refused to tell me anything. Neither of us slept the rest of the night. Nor did we speak. 

James still refused to tell me what it was. He’d been on edge since the dream, but that was something I had gotten used to. We’d been in Romania nearly two years, and we hadn’t had any signs of HYDRA, or anyone really hunting us down. James was starting to get antsy, waiting for the day it happened, and in turn, I was getting antsy as well. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. And happen soon. 

James and I fell between the sheets that night, James taking control, getting all of his anxiety, stress and worry out. He collapsed against my back, his elbows holding his weight, both of us breathing hard. James leaned his forehead against my bare shoulder, his breaths cooling my heated skin. He wrapped his arm around my waist, rolling us over, slipping out of me at the same time. He settled against my back, his metal arm slipping under my neck. I grabbed his flesh hand with mine, lacing our fingers together as he sighed. I felt him nuzzle against my hair, pulling me closer subconsciously. 

“I love you.” I murmured, my eyes fluttering shut as sleep started to take me. 

“I love you, too.” I heard him murmur, right before I drifted off. 

If I would have known what was going to happen, I would have basked in that moment longer. Taken more time to enjoy having James with me. Beside me. Being in his arms, protected. Because everything was about to fall apart, and neither of us knew it. 

James was gone when I got home from work the next day. I didn’t know where he was, but I didn’t stress too much about it. It wasn’t too unusual for him to be gone when I got home. But when a hand reached out, closing around my mouth, a sharp pain bursting through my head, the nonchalance flew out the window as my world went dark. 

I groaned when I woke back up, my head pounding. My vision was blurry when I opened my eyes, and I was slightly relieved to see the ceiling of the apartment over me still. Though that relief quickly went out the window when a face appeared in my vision. 

“She’s alive.” I was yanked into a kneeling position, a hand on my shoulder keeping my steady. My vision swam at the movement, my headache getting worse, making me want to hurl all over the floor. Or maybe that was just the dread filling me. “Remember me, sweetheart?” 

His face was scarred, but it still held the perverted smirk I recognized. “I don’t know...you look like Brock Rumlow...but also like a burnt piece of steak.” 

I bit back a cry as he gripped my jaw in his hand tightly, lifting my face a little. “No less snarky, are you. You haven’t lost that, yet. You know, I was a little surprised when I heard he’d dragged you along when he ran. The Asset has a little crush.” He released my jaw, leaning on his knees as he squatted in front of me. 

“He has a name.” 

“Oh, he remembers that too? I’m shocked, honestly. He was such a good little soldier. Oh well. It was only a matter of time.” He smirked, but I didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant when the door burst open. 

I went to cry out, but a knife pressed against my throat, the hand on my shoulder tightening painfully. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Prince Charming.” Rumlow said, standing so he was facing James. 

“Let her go.” He growled, his metal fist clenched, ready to spring at any moment. Takle Rumlow and bash his face in. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast.” Rumlow said, pointing a gun at me. “One wrong move, Asset, and she’s gone.” 

“That’s not my name anymore.” James growled, his body tense, ready to pounce at any moment. 

“So I’ve heard. You know, I saw your little boyfriend a couple days ago. He intercepted me as I was retrieving something important. But I managed to slip away at the expense of a couple of my men. It’s amazing what desperate men will do. What they’ll die for. All I had to do was say your name. ‘Bucky.’ That was all it took, and I got away. Slipped out of the great Captain’s grasp, just like that.” I could see James tense even more. “So you do remember him. After everything. Well, they say ‘true love never dies.’ And now you’re trying to replace it with this?” Rumlow looked down at me. “Not really a step up, is it.” I could see James bristle a little. “Tell me, Bucky,” Rumlow spat out his name like a curse word. “Is she really worth it? Did you mean it when you told her you loved her last night? Or are they just empty worse, trying to replace a love you’ll never find again? Was it worth it, travelling all this way to die, when you could have ended it quickly?” Rumlow looked between us a couple times. “It’s hard, you know. Deciding which one of you to kill first. I could shoot her first, then you...Or I could shoot you first, and make you watch as I torture her to death, and you’d have to watch, incapable of doing anything.” He pointed the gun at James. “Yeah, I like that idea better.” 

I glanced at James, meeting his eyes and he nodded just a fraction. I brought my hand down on the foot of the man that was holding me, driving my elbow into his ribs as he bent forward slightly. I could hear James and Rumlow fighting as I stood, the man that had been holding me stumbled back a little. I grabbed the cast iron skillet that had been sitting on the stove and swung it, knocking the man out, along with a couple of his teeth. I turned to see James leaning over Rumlow, who was bleeding on the floor. He had the gun in his hand, ready to shoot. 

“James!” I called, putting my hand on his. “No.” I shoved him away, the gun in my hand. I knelt over Rumlow, looking down into his eyes. I pointed the gun at his head, the barrel resting on his forehead. “You deserve so much worse than this. You deserve to suffer for everything you did to him.” I nodded in James’ direction. “To me. But at the same time, the quicker you die, the faster you burn in hell for everything you’ve done.” 

Rumlow smiled sadistically up at me. “Hail H-” 

The sound of the gun rang in my ears. My hands were shaking, my head spinning. I swore my vision went white for a moment. Nothing felt real. I was flying through the stars, lost somewhere else. Anywhere but in the present moment.  I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt James’ hand on mine, pulling the gun from my grasp. I finally saw Rumlow, a bullet hole in his head, blood pooling around the wound. I let out a strangled cry, letting James pull me off of him. 

“Get yourself cleaned up.” He said, shoving me towards the bathroom. 

I stumbled weakly, falling into the door, fumbling with the knob a few times before I managed to get it open. I shut the door, standing in the dark for a moment. It was peaceful in there. There was no blood, no dead body. Nothing. No Rumlow. No other man I knocked out with a cast iron skillet. No gun. But they were still in my mind. Choking me. I fumbled for the light switch, flipping it on, the harsh fluorescent light burning my eyes. I stumbled into the shower, stripping out of my clothes on the way. I didn’t want to feel anything. My skin was crawling. I had just killed a man. I had just killed Rumlow. I shot him. I should have felt good. I had killed my tormentor. The man who had ruined me. Broken me. Tried to kill me. Would have killed me. I kept James and I safe for a second. But what if there were more? What if our safe haven wasn’t as safe as we thought it was anymore? 


	60. Things Go Downhill

James and I were walking down the street, heading towards the market. I had been feeling sick over the past few days, and James wanted to get some things to help me feel better. He had stopped to pick up some ginger and I was scanning the crowd. James had been on edge since Rumlow had shown up in our apartment. He had wanted to leave that day, but he didn’t want to risk travelling when I could be getting sick. We’d done that once, and he’d rather not have me delirious on the road.

But little did we know how big of a mistake that was. 

My stomach fell when I noticed the woman looking right at us. Right at me. It took a moment, since she was across the street, but the blonde hair, business suit, it all looked right. Granted, I could just be going crazy, but at the same time...I wasn’t going to risk it. 

“James we need to go.” I murmured, turning back to him. 

“What? What is it?” He looked up, scanning the area as well. 

I turned back, seeing the woman, looking both ways before she started across the street. I grabbed James’ hand, dragging him down the sidewalk, taking an alleyway to try and lose her. James pulled me aside once we were out of view of the street, pushing me back against the side of a building gently. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, his eyes practically piercing my soul. 

“The blonde woman, in the suit, across the street from us?” He nodded, having scanned the crowd as well. “I think that was my sister.” 

******

The next day, James left early, heading out to run some errands while I stayed in the apartment. He didn’t want me going out because I had been sick again that morning, and there was the chance my sister would see me again, which would only cause trouble for both of us. Trouble we didn’t need. 

I groaned, rolling out of bed. James had practically spoon fed me plain oatmeal earlier, wanting to make sure I at least ate something. He’d been getting more and more protective of me after what happened with Rumlow. He hardly left me alone, this morning being an exception. 

I went to the bathroom, grabbing the package I had stashed under the sink. I had been having feelings lately, and I just wanted to make sure everything was normal. Except nothing was normal. Nothing could ever be normal. 

I wasn’t sure how long I sat on the toilet crying. I wasn’t even really sure why I was crying. Was I happy? Sad? Worried? Disappointed?  All of the above? I finally blew my nose with some toilet paper, washing my face with cold water before stepping out of the bathroom, only to nearly scream. 

Captain America was standing in our apartment. 

How did he know where we were? How long had he known? Did he know about...How did he get in? And most important: why was he here? 

I inhaled sharply, moving to take a step back when a figure moved partially in front of me, reaching back to take my hand in his flesh one. Captain Rogers said something, probably into a comm, before he turned around, facing us. He had one of James’ journals in his hand. The one James had been writing about him in. 

“Do you know me?” He asked James. “You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.” 

Captain Rogers set the notebook down on the counter, taking a half a step forward. “I know you’re nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be.” He glanced at me for a second as I shifted further behind James. “But you’re lying.” 

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.”

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they’re not planning on taking you alive.” 

“That’s smart. Good strategy.” I squeezed James’ hand tighter and he shifted slightly. I could hear them running up the stairs. 

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck.” Captain Rogers said as James moved into a position I knew well. Something he’d practiced for moments just like this. 

“It always ends in a fight.” James said, pulling the glove off his metal hand. 

Captain Rogers looked to his right for a moment, before looking back at James. “You pulled me from the river. Why?” 

“I don’t know.” James said, looking up at him. 

“Yes you do.” 

Suddenly one window shattered, a stun grenade being thrown in. Captain Rogers hit it with his shield, sending it against the wall. Another flew in, James kicking it towards Captain Rogers who covered it with his shield. There was a bang against the door, and James pulled me down, shielding me with his body, holding the mattress up as a third stun grenade came through the window. He straightened up, pushing me towards Captain Rogers before throwing the table towards the door, blocking them for the moment. 

Two men came crashing through the windows, James hitting one in the face, the other pointing his gun directly at James. I ducked down as Captain Rogers pulled the rug out from under him, his bullets hitting the wall and the ceiling. A third came crashing through the door, Captain Rogers disarming him, James kicking him out the door. James grabbed me, pulling me towards the door, but he was stopped by Captain Rogers. 

“Buck, stop!” James pushed me down behind him. “You’re going to kill someone.” 

James shoved Captain Rogers to the floor, punching through the floorboards with his metal hand. “I’m not going to kill anyone.” James shoved the backpack at me as a third man came through the window. 

I ducked down beside the fridge, covering my head as Captain Rogers blocked the bullets with his shield. Another man shot through the window in the kitchen, James throwing Captain Rogers against him, before sending him out the window. James blocked the other man’s shots with his hand, sending the man’s head through the shelf on the wall. He got up, and James grabbed the cinderblock, throwing the man through the table against the door. 

I got up, grabbing his hand. He turned as three gunshots sounded against the door. He walked to the door, punching through with his left hand, sending the door flying against the guards behind it. I stayed back as he fought off the remaining guards on the landing. One came through the ceiling, shooting at James, who blocked it with his arm, throwing the man against the wall. He grabbed the battering ram, using it to take out two of the men. I could hear more shouting as they came up the stairs. He turned to me, lifting me on to his back, before using the man hanging in mid air to get part way down the stairs. 

I held on for dear life as he fought his way down the stairs, Captain Rogers following us. One of the men tried to grab me, but I turned, elbowing him in the face, sending him stumbling back. James nearly sent one man over the edge of the stairs, but Captain Rogers caught him. I held on for dear life as James used the railing to swing us down, kicking one of the men through the door. He ran down the hallway, stopping just before the railing. He turned to me and I nodded. He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine before I was flying. 

I tucked myself into a ball, rolling as I landed on the roof. I secured the backpack on my back, looking back up at the building, waiting for James to follow me. He came flying over next, hitting the edge of the building rolling slightly before running towards me. A shadow moved over us and he shoved me out of the way, just before he was hit in the back by a black blur. James rolled back to his feet, staring at the form that now stood between us. A man dressed like a...cat? 

“Olivia, run!” James shouted, right before he started fighting the man. 

I glanced back for a moment, before running towards the fire escape. Would I ever see him again? Would I get a chance to tell him? Would we get our happy ending? So many thoughts were flying through my head as I ran through the streets. I knew no one was following me, but it made me feel better, getting out of the area as quickly as possible. 

The sound of whirring machinery was the last thing I heard before I was suddenly face down on the sidewalk. I gasped, curling up on myself as pain erupted through me. I turned slightly, seeing what used to be Iron Patriot. I guess he ditched that gimmick. The left side of my face was burning as I rolled on my back. 

“Stay down. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

I held my hands up in a surrender as we were surrounded by police cars. The backpack was yanked from me as I was pulled to my feet. I didn’t struggle as I was handcuffed and placed in the back of a van. This was not how I had hoped this day would go. I just hoped James was safe, and had gotten away. He deserved that much after everything. 

*****

It was a long ride to Berlin. James had wanted to fight again as he saw Olivia in custody as well, but he knew that would only make things worse for both of them. She gave him a look, telling him she was alright as they placed him in a glass prison, and loaded him in the back of a van. 

She was loaded in with Captain Rogers, and two other men. She sat in front of them, thinking about how much had changed over the past few days. She wondered if it really was her sister on the street, and she had caused all this. But that would mean she was working with Captain Rogers, which Olivia found hard to believe. Her sister was a good person, but like their father, she was often misguided, and hard headed. 

She wasn’t surprised to see her sister when she climbed out of the van in Berlin. She didn’t hug her sister back, instead turning her head to look at James. He looked so sad...so defeated in his glass prison. She wanted it to be James hugging her instead. 

“Olivia.” Her sister turned her face away from James. “I’m so glad you’re safe! I knew it was you I saw on the street in Bucharest.” 

Olivia nearly groaned, turning back to watch as James was wheeled out of the area. “Where are they taking him, Vanessa?” She asked, watching until he disappeared. 

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” 

Vanessa Pierce blocked her sister’s view, leading her inside, following Deputy Ross and the others. She was steered away from where they were going, taken down another hallway. Olivia turned, meeting eyes with Captain Rogers as she was led away, mirroring what had happened over two years ago in D.C. She wasn’t quite sure she was in better hands this time, though. 

She sat in her own glass prison, listening to her sister argue with a man outside. The door hadn’t been shut all the way, after her sister had tried to talk to her, so she could hear what was being said. 

“My sister has no part in this. She is innocent and a victim. You will release her into my custody.” 

“What do you plan to do with her?”

“I will take her back to the States with me. Place her in the best mental institution I know. Get her help for her Stockholm Syndrome, as well as her mental state.” 

Olivia gasped, not able to help it as she stood, nearly throwing the glass door open. “You will not take me away from him!” 

Vanessa looked at her sister shocked for a moment. “Excuse us.” She said to the man she was speaking to, before she grabbed her sister’s arm, tugging her back into the cell. “Olivia you are sick. Your mind has been warped by that...that murderer.” 

“He’s as innocent as I am. He was being controlled!” 

“Olivia, he abused you. Raped you. Kidnapped you!” 

“He saved my life. He’s the only reason I’m still alive, and you know it. You’re just far too judgemental to admit it. If he wanted me dead, he would have left me. He was being controlled by HYDRA. By our father! But I’ve seen the real him. He didn’t set off that bomb in Vienna. He didn’t kill anyone willingly!” Olivia brushed the frustrated tear from her cheek. “You can’t take him away from me.” 

Vanessa looked at her sister sympathetically. “Oh, Olivia. He’s got you so twisted.” She squeezed Olivia’s arm in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, but Olivia jerked from her touch. “I’ll get you help. We’ll get you all back to normal.” 

Olivia didn’t fight anymore as her sister left her alone, sealing her off in the glass cell. People moved around her as she sunk into a chair, leaning her head on the table. She watched as her sister fought to get her released into her custody. It probably would be better than what the government had planned, but she’d still be separated from James. And she hadn’t even told him yet. 

She felt like she was in there for hours. The power had shut off, making everyone around her panic, and a guard to stand in front of the door to her cell. She didn’t know what was going on, but she prayed James had something to do with it. Maybe he was escaping. She just hoped he didn’t try to go after her. That would only lead to more problems on his part. 

The guard moved aside, and her sister came back into the room. “Get up. We’re leaving.” 

“What?” Olivia asked, but didn’t have a chance to react as she was pulled to her feet by two guards. 

She was escorted from the cell by her sister, guards flanking them on all sides. “What’s going on?” Olivia asked, trying to get some information on what had happened. 

“Sergeant Barnes has tried to escape, but Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Stark are holding him off. The lunatic has lost his mind.” 

“He’s not a lunatic.” Olivia nearly growled, grabbing her sister’s arm to stop her. 

“There’s only one person who knows him better than me and both of us will agree that his is not a lunatic.” 

Vanessa didn’t say anything, just shook her head, continuing on. Olivia was pushed forward by a guard. She kept her mouth shut as they walked outside, the sun nearly blinding Olivia for a moment. Only two guards followed them to the car, and Olivia turned, kicking the one closest to her in the knee, slamming his face down on the trunk. She slipped his handgun from his belt, pointing it at the other. 

“Olivia, put the gun down.” Vanessa said. 

“Not when he’s going to shoot me the second I do.” She said, not turning from the guard. She saw the helicopter out of the corner of her eye try to take off, but something was stopping it. 

“Put your gun down for pity sake!” Vanessa said to the guard, and he slowly lowered it, raising his hands. “Olivia. You don’t have to do this. Come with me. Let me get you help.” 

She shot the guard through the hand, turning the gun on her sister. “I don’t need your help. You can’t help me. You're just like dad, trying to control me. I need James more than you realize.” She took a shaky breath, the gun wavering in her hand slightly. “Because I’m pregnant with his child.” 


	61. Reunited

I felt like I searched all day. Looking high and low, every possible spot around the facility, while trying to keep myself hidden as well. I had to remember I was a fugitive now, running from pretty much everyone. 

I wouldn’t have seen them if I hadn’t done a double take. It’s scary to think I could have just overlooked them like that. Then they would have been gone, and I would have been left behind, and I probably wouldn’t have ever seen James again. They were moving from a warehouse, heading towards a side street, Captain Rogers working on breaking into an old VW Bug. 

“James?” I called, pausing where I was. 

He turned, and I saw his face, nearly breaking down where I was. “Olivia?” He called, taking a step towards me. 

I took off in a dead sprint, running into his arms. He lifted me off the ground as I buried my face in his neck. He was still a little damp, but I didn’t care. I had him again, for now. The father of my child. Our child. 

He set me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my lips, pouring all of his feelings into it. My toes practically curled like the first time we kissed, it was so full of meaning. 

“I thought you were gone.” He said, leaning his forehead against mine. 

“I threatened my sister with a gun to avoid that. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.” I said, looking up into his eyes. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a cough behind him. Both of us turned, my cheeks burning as we looked at the two other men standing by the Bug. I took James’ outstretched hand, letting him lead me to the car. 

We got in the back, both men up front staying relatively quiet for the short ride. James held my hand in his, playing with my fingers. I looked over to him, smiling at him. I was just happy to be with him again. I didn’t care that we were running from the government, and fugitives, or that I had threatened my sister with a gun, and just made her think I was even more insane than she already thought I was. As long as I was with James, I’d be okay. I knew he’d protect me. 

“Olivia?” Captain Rogers asked from the driver’s seat. 

“Yeah?” 

“That is your name, right?” 

“Yes. It’s nice to finally meet you, Captain Rogers. We’ve passed by each other a couple times.” 

He was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I should have done something when I first saw you. I knew something wasn’t right, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. 

“You couldn’t be sure. Plus you were in a building half full of people trying to kill you.” I shrugged. “I got my chance at freedom.” I looked over to James, giving him a small smile as he squeezed my hand. 

“How long has this been a thing?” The man in the passenger seat asked. “Sam Wilson, by the way.” He said, turning to me. 

“A year and five months.” James answered, looking at the back of Sam’s seat. 

“Ooh, things are getting serious then, huh?” 

I blushed a little. “Well...I wouldn’t say that…” My heart was hammering in my chest. When was I going to tell James? I had to tell him eventually. He’d find out either way. “He’s kept me alive this long. That I can be grateful for.” 

The car pulled up in a parking garage of an airport, not far behind a black car. Captain Rogers got out, and a blonde woman I recognized from the facility got out of the black car. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, instead focusing on James. He was staring at the back of Sam’s seat again. 

“Can you move your seat up?” James asked. 

“No.” Sam said. 

I held back a giggle as James lifted me, changing seats. He draped his arm across the back of my seat, and I snuggled into his chest, relaxing against his shoulder. The three of us in the car watched as Captain Rogers and the blonde woman kissed. I smiled a little, tucking myself closer to James. Captain Rogers glanced at the car, smiling sheepishly. I couldn’t help but smile a little in return. 

Captain Rogers grabbed his shield and what looked like a jet pack out of the trunk of the blonde woman’s car, putting it in the trunk of the bug. He drove up the parking garage a few levels to where a white van was waiting. Both Sam and Captain Rogers got out, greeting the man who was driving the van, and the woman in the passenger seat. They shared a few words as James and I stood back from the group. I leaned against his chest, taking in his warmth. I’d missed this, in the few hours we’d been apart. The stress of not knowing if I’d ever see him again. If I’d ever be able to tell him about his child growing inside me. 

I was jostled out of my thoughts when the van door slammed open, the person inside climbing out, Steve and Sam sharing a look. He seemed a little star struck as he approached Captain Rogers. 

“Captain America.” He said, shaking Captain Rogers’ hand. 

“Mr. Lang.” 

“It’s an honor.” He said, still shaking Captain Rogers’ hand. “I’m shaking your hand too long.” He finally let go. “Wow. This is awesome.” He said, turning back towards the woman and the other man. “Captain America.” He said, pointing at Captain Rogers. “I know you too. You’re great.” He said to the woman. He turned back to Captain Rogers, still in awe. He squeezed Captain Rogers’ shoulders for a moment, before dropping his hands back down to his sides.  “Look, I gotta say, I know you know a lot of super people, so, thanks for thinking of me.” Captain Rogers nodded. “Hey man.” He said to Sam. 

“What’s up, Tic-Tac?” 

“Uh, good to see you. Look, what happened last time-” 

“It was a great audition, but it will never happen again.” 

“Did they tell you what we’re up against?” 

“Something about some psyco-assassins.” 

“We’re outside the law on this one. So if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.” 

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” 

“We should get moving.” James said. 

“We got a chopper lined up.” The other man said.    
Suddenly a voice came over the loud speaker, speaking in German. 

“They’re evacuating the airport.” James said. 

“Stark.” Sam said. 

“Stark?” 

“Suit up.” Captain Rogers said. 

“You should get out of here.” James said as he changed out of his clothes. “Take the car, get as far from here as possible. I don’t want you caught up in this.” 

“I’m not leaving you, James.” I said, taking his shirt from him. “Not again.” 

“I can’t guarantee things will be pretty. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, or worse.” 

“There’s nothing you can say to convince me to leave.” I said, grabbing his arm. “I need you. Now, more than ever.” 

James shook his head, wrapping his hands around my arms. “If you stay you could get hurt, or get caught again. They’ll take you away from me. If you leave, I will find you again.” 

“You can’t promise that.” I said, looking up into his eyes. “I’m safer with you, James. I can stay out of this fight, but I’m not running away where I can’t find you again. I need you with me. I can’t do this by myself.” I said, taking his hands in mine. 

“What do you mean? Do what by yourself?” 

I bit my lip, staring into his eyes for a moment. They were so beautiful. So sincere. Everyone thought he was a monster, but I knew differently. I’d seen the real him. The man who’d taken care of me when he didn’t have to. Saved my life when he didn’t have to. Kept me alive when he didn’t trust my loyalty. He’d seen my worst and my best, and yet, he still loved me. We’d been through hell together, and this would just be another adventure for us, if he chose to stay with me. That was the big question. He could always turn away now, and leave me behind. I’d be alone, trying to raise our child. I was sure I could get help somewhere, or just turn myself in. But then I’d never get to meet my child. See them grow up. See if they looked like James. Had his eyes, his hair. His personality. Or, god forbid, mine. I sighed, clenching James’ hands tight. 

“James…” I blinked back tears, clearing the lump in my throat. “I’m pregnant.” 


	62. Battles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the second to last chapter! I'm hoping if I don't get it up tonight, I'll have it up tomorrow morning. And yeah, I was supposed to have a date, but he skipped out on me, so I wrote this instead.

James stared down at me with wide eyes. He was frozen, mouth slightly parted, still gripping my arms. I bit my lip, staring up at him, tears in my eyes. Was he happy? Disappointed? Would he walk away? Leave me behind? Force me to leave? 

He finally moved, his grip on my arms tightening a fraction as he swallowed thickly. “Y-you’re pregnant?” He breathed, searching my face for any sign of a lie or a joke. But it was the truth. “You...you’re gonna…” He inhaled shakily, turning away from me. I watched him run a hand down his face before he bent down, pulling on his boots. 

“James, talk to me.” I said, my voice shaking. 

“You gotta get out of here.” He said, turning back to me. “I’m not risking having you here. Not when our child could be in danger.” He placed his flesh hand over my stomach, where our child was growing.

“I’m not leaving you.” 

“Please, Olivia. The last thing I want is for you to get caught in a fight. Leave now, and there’s a chance you can get away still.” 

“James-” 

“There’s a HYDRA safe-house just south of here, in Schkeuditz. Go there and wait. If I don’t come for you in two days, I want you to leave Germany. Get somewhere safe. Keep our child safe.” 

“Buck.” Captain Rogers said, gaining James’ attention. “Let’s go.” 

He looked back to me, leaning down to press a kiss against my lips. I cupped his cheek, his hair tickling my fingers. 

“I love you, Olivia.” He said, looking into my eyes. 

“I love you too, James.” 

He kissed my hand before walking towards Captain Rogers. Captain Rogers gave me a small smile. I gave him a halfhearted smile back, watching them walk away. 

I got in the bug, driving out of the parking garage, and from the airport. I watched it until it disappeared in the rearview mirror. Would this be the last time I saw him? Would he come for me like he said? Would he live long enough to see our child be born? Would he be able to raise our child, or would I be doing this on my own? That thought had me skidding to a stop in the middle of the road. The town was in front of me, just a few thousand feet and I’d be driving down main street. 

What the hell was I doing? Separating myself from the one person I needed, the one person who could keep me alive. I couldn’t survive on my own. I mean, I probably could, but I didn’t want to. I wanted James to protect me as much as I needed him to. I couldn’t just leave his fate unknown. But if we got caught. If they lost this fight, we’d never see each other again. They’d lock him up, maybe give him the death penalty. I’d be taken to a mental hospital like my sister wanted. I’d never see my child. If they found them, they’d come after me. They were coming after me. I’d held a senator at gunpoint while escaping the government for christ sake. 

I leaned my head against the steering wheel, my mind rushing at a million miles an hour. If I left him, I’d never see him again. If I went back, at least I’d know the fate of my child’s father. 

I shifted gears, the tires screeching as I made a u-turn, driving way above the speed limit back to the airport. Like hell I was gonna leave him behind. If I was gonna run, he was coming with me. 

I drove back to the airport, nearly breaking through the entry doors. I could hear the sound of fighting in the eerily silent building. I stopped as I passed one of the food vendors, spotting a knife. I was unarmed in a fight involving super-people. I’d need something to protect myself with. I jumped over the counter, grabbing the knife before assessing where the fighting was.  I ran towards the sounds, watching as a figure in red was pulled out the window, yelling as he fell through the air. 

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” I heard James ask. 

“I hate you.” Sam. 

“James!” I shouted, seeing them on the floor below me. I ran down the escalator, sliding to my knees beside James. 

“Olivia? What are you doing here?” 

“I’m here for you, genius.” I said, looking at his metal arm that was stuck to the ground. “What is that?” 

“I don’t know. Can you get us out?” Sam asked. 

I took the knife, slicing away at the thick, sticky, web-like substance. “Ew.” I said, shaking my hand to get it unstuck. 

“Olivia, you need to leave.” James said, grabbing my arm as I worked his metal one free. 

“No. I’m staying with you. I need you, James. And I at least need closure if you don’t make it out of this.” 

He sat up, tugging his hand the rest of the way free, looking over to Sam for a moment. “There’s a quinjet in Hangar 5. Can you get there without being seen?” 

I thought for a moment. “I can figure something out.” 

James leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I kissed him back, enjoying the feel of having him so close again. I couldn’t believe I’d almost left him. 

“While I’m happy for you two, it would be great if you could get me out of this.” Sam said, ruining our moment. 

I pulled away, laughing lightly. “Sorry, Sam.” 

James pulled me in for another kiss before he let me move to work on freeing Sam. He stood guard, making sure nothing came for us. We ran from the terminal, Sam and James taking off in a different direction as me. I ran towards a Catering vehicle, happy to find the keys inside. Maybe this would be my lucky day. 

I spotted where the others were running, taking off towards the hangars. It didn’t move fast, but it was faster than me on my own two feet. I kept one eye on them, swerving around various obstacles. I stopped when they stopped, a beam of light coming from a flying figure stoppin them in their tracks. What the hell? This wasn’t going to be good. I pushed the cart as fast as it would go, driving towards the open hangar that had to be Hangar 5. 

I pulled up beside the quinjet, taking a deep breath. I had made it. But were the others okay? I could hear the explosions and the fighting from where I was. I got out of the Catering vehicle, making my way towards the quinjet entrance, when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. Was that...a giant man? I stood there for a moment, just looking in amazement. Yeah, I was way out of my league with this one. 

I saw James and Captain Rogers running towards me, and almost shouted out to them, when I was hit from the side. I hit the concrete hard, the air leaving my lungs. I turned on my back, trying to breathe as a redhead stood over me. I held up my hands in a surrender. 

“Look, I really don’t want to fight you because I know I’ll get my ass kicked, so I’ll just leave if you’ll let me. Me and my baby would really appreciate that, if you would not fight us.” 

Her head cocked to the side, a frown forming on her features. “Baby?” 

I nodded, looking at her, terrified something was going to happen. Maybe I did make a mistake, trying to get to James. I flinched as she held her hand out, and I stared at it for a moment, not quite sure what was going to happen, but I took it anyways, letting her pull me back to my feet. 

“I’m not going to fight you. And I’m not going to fight them. I may agree with Tony, but I think Steve is right as well.” 

“So...you’re like...a double agent? Or something?” 

“Or something.” She smiled a little. 

There was a crash and dirt and debris started falling in front of the hangar door, the tower starting to fall in front of it. 

“James!” I called, trying to run, but Natasha caught my arm, stopping me. 

The tower stopped, a red force field keeping it from falling. Captain Rogers and James ran, just barely making it under before the tower fell, blocking the exit. Natasha turned from me, stopping the two men from getting to the quinjet. I saw James’ eyes land on me, and I nodded slightly, letting him know I was okay. 

“You’re not going to stop?” Natasha asked Captain Rogers. 

“You know I can’t.”

She sighed. “I’m going to regret this.” She lifted her arm, shooting something from her wrist at the cat-man that had landed behind them. “Go.” She said as it electrocuted him. 

Captain Rogers nodded slightly at her before running towards the quinjet, James following. I took James’ hand as he passed, letting him pull me up the ramp and into the quinjet. 

“I thought he told you to leave.” Captain Rogers said to me as he got in the pilot’s seat. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been good at following orders.” I said as James strapped me into a seat. 

The quinjet lifted into the air, James buckling himself in next to me. I reached across the aisle to him, his hand meeting mine. He gave it a squeeze, running his thumb over my knuckles. 

“Get some sleep.” He said, smiling softly at me. 

I got more comfortable in the seat, letting the whirr of the jet lull me off to sleep. 

I was having a weird dream. There were people all around me, standing over me where I laid. There was a bright light in my eyes, hanging down over me. A man in a surgical mask leaned over me, saying something I couldn’t understand before looking down the table. I followed his gaze, finding my stomach swollen, and my knees bent. Something cold touched me between my legs, sharp pain ripping through me. I gasped, crying out slightly. I felt like I was being ripped apart. I screamed as the pain worsened, my back arching up off the table. I gripped at the edges, feeling like I’d bend the metal I was holding on so tight. I screamed one last time, my scream echoed by another’s. A baby’s cry. I watched with blurry eyes as the man between my legs held up the baby.  _ My baby.  _

_ “This will be our new generation!” _ He said. 

All of the men in the room stood at attention.  _ “Hail HYDRA!”  _

I gasped, waking up from my nightmare. I had to take a couple breaths, remember where I was. 

“Are you okay, doll?” I turned, seeing James’ concerned eyes. 

“Yeah. Just a dream.” I said, running my hand down my face. 

My stomach dropped a little as we landed, the snow blowing around us. I was already cold and I hadn’t left the jet yet. I unstrapped myself as James and Captain Rogers armed themselves. Well...James armed himself. 

“You’re staying here.” James said, turning to me, gun in hand. 

“There’s emergency blankets if you get cold.” Captain Rogers said. 

“We’ll be back. No matter what you see, stay out here.” James said, squeezing my shoulder. “I love you.” He said, cupping the back of my head, pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“I love you too.” I said, watching as he turned away from me, standing shoulder to shoulder with Captain Rogers as the hatch opened. 

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” 

“Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?”

“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead.” 

“What was her name again?” James asked. 

“Dolores. You called her Dot.” 

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.” 

“So are we, pal.” 

I let them share their moment, trying not to shiver violently in the cold air that was coming in through the open hatch. Okay, it was more than cold. It was freezing! I was gonna need all of those emergency blankets. I closed the hatch after they left, grabbing the emergency blankets. I wrapped all four around me, covering my head down to my feet as I relaxed in the seat James was in as much as I could. I had a feeling I would be here for a while. 

I started when I heard a jet land not far from where I was, and I froze. Who followed us? Was it Iron Man? Sam and the others? The cat-man? I froze where I was sitting, like me moving would alert them that I was here, though I was pretty sure they couldn’t get into the quinjet. And there was enough weapons for an army next to me. I was pretty sure I was safe. Pretty sure. 

I waited until I was sure they were gone, before I relaxed. I fell into an uneasy, restless sleep, plagued with nightmares of HYDRA, and what could have been. What would have been. Nightmares of what happened, what could have happened. The child...my child. James’ child. I woke up when I heard shuffling outside, a voice calling my name. I bolted from the blankets, lowering the hatch. James was there, being supported on one side by Captain Rogers, and the cat-man on the other. 

“What happened?” I asked, following them as they settled him in the seat, noticing the missing arm right away. 

“Get to Wakanda.” The cat-man said. “I will take care of Zemo.” 

Captain Rogers nodded to the cat-man, moving to the pilot’s seat. The cat-man left, the hatch closing behind him. 

“Strap yourself in, Olivia.” Captain Rogers said, the jet humming to life. 

I had so many questions, but I didn’t object, strapping myself in. I just hoped, wherever we were going was safe, and that James was going to be okay. That we’d all be okay. 

 


	63. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it! The last chapter! It has been a ride, and I am grateful for all of you have stuck with me until the end! Thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, bookmarked, subscribed, read, looked at, everything! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I've got a couple things in the works right now, but I don't know when they'll be posted, so keep your eyes peeled! I'm not done writing yet!

I walked down the hall in the palace in Wakanda. We'd been there for a couple days, all of us getting fixed up. It was the cleanest place I'd been in, in a long time. Two years, in fact. James was having his weekly check up, and I was heading there to pick him up so we could go to my appointment. James was worried about the HYDRA programming that was still in his head, but King T'Challa had assured him he was under the best care in the world. It helped him relax slightly, but he was still tense because he was worried there was a chance he could hurt me and the baby.

Captain Rogers and King T'Challa were there when I arrived, talking to James as the doctors finished up their work on him.

"Do not worry, Sergeant Barnes." King T'Challa said as I stepped up next to where James was sitting. "You are in good hands." He turned slightly towards me. "And we will take good care of mother, and child."

I smiled, placing my hand on my stomach. I had already started to show a little, the baby growing fast. The doctors had said that could be due to the serum James had been given. That the child could possess some of the serum in his genetics. It was too early to tell that just yet.

"The baby is healthy." The doctor said, looking at the ultrasound screen. "One happy, healthy baby."

I smiled, relieved. I was worried the stress would pose an issue, but it hadn't. James squeezed my hand where he sat next to me. He was getting used to having one arm, King T'Challa having his engineers work on a replacement for him. An upgrade he'd said. I didn't care whether he had one arm, or none. I still loved him no matter what. 

"I will see you again in two weeks for a check up." The doctor said, wiping the gel from my stomach. "We can measure your due date, depending on how fast the baby is growing." 

"Thank you." I said, letting James help me up. 

James and I walked hand in hand from the labs, Captain Rogers talking with King T'Challa ahead of us. 

"I'm going to go get changed." James said, stopping in the hallway.

"Okay. I'll be there in a second." James kissed my hand before heading the opposite direction. "Captain Rogers?" I asked, after King T'Challa had left.

"Please, call me Steve." He said as I approached him.

"Steve...I just wanted to say thank you for what you did a few days ago, protecting James. I know you didn't have to, but-"

"I should be thanking you." He said, cutting me off. "He told me about what happened. And I went looking for you, after SHIELD fell. But you were already gone. Sam and I hacked your father's computer and we saw...we saw what happened to you. And the way you were able to overcome that, get where you are now. I can't even imagine what that was like."

"I was terrified of him at first. When we first started running. But...it wasn't him. He was being controlled. I know he'd never do anything like that if he had his free will. But he didn't. I saw him fight it many times. I've helped him fight it. And I know he's capable of getting rid of it completely, with time and some help."

"I'm grateful that you were there for him. That he wasn't alone for two years. He said you kept him sane. You were his rock."

"I was his rock as much as he was mine. Yeah, we went through a lot, but look where we are now. About to be parents in a few short months. It's been a ride, but I couldn't have wanted it to end any differently."

"I'm just glad he's happy. He deserves that much."

I nodded. "I should probably go to my appointment, but thank you, again, Steve. You've been a huge help. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"You're welcome, Olivia."

I started walking away, but stopped, biting my lip. "Steve?" I asked, turning around, Steve mirroring my action, turning to face me. "Call me Libby."


End file.
